The Teaser Pony
by mikelesq
Summary: The crew of Serenity provides passage for horse with an unusual talent, and a woman from Simon’s past.
1. Default Chapter

The Teaser Pony

By Mikelesq

Concept: The crew of Serenity provides passage for horse with an unusual talent, and a woman from Simon's past.

Rating: R

Feedback: Please. E-mail Mikelesq@aol.com 

Spoilers: For all episodes, including the three unaired episodes. Do NOT read if you're remaining spoiler free until the DVDs. Takes place approximately three weeks after "Objects in Space," and presumes that "OiS" was the final episode chronologically.

Legal disclaimers: "Firefly" characters and situations are owned by Joss Whedon and the producers of the show. The story is entirely fiction. Distribute if you like. 

------------------------

**__**

Prologue

"It's gone!?"

"Couldn't be helped, Mal," Johnny Marsh said, grabbing the reins of a mare in his large, rough hands and leading it out of its stall.

"How figure?" Mal argued, trailing behind Marsh as he led the mare out of the stables to the corral. "The gorram stud didn't break into a hard gallop and jump to Xanthus!"

"Another ship came in two days ago," Marsh replied. "About the time you were supposed to. You were late. They were here. So I gave them the job."

"Alright," Mal said. "First, I'm not late. I said I'd be here in four days, all conditions permitting. Conditions did not permit, due to no misstep or neglect on my part. I said I'd be here in six days on the outside, and that's today. I went a good bit out of my way to get here, just to hit orbit and hear that the deal's no good. So now I've got my crew beating the bush in town to scrape up cargo and passengers just to cover our fuel costs, and you're telling me that it's because you hired the first _ren yi_ ship that came along to ferry your prize stallion to Xanthus!?"

"Will you calm yourself?" Marsh sighed, removing the bridle from the mare. "I wanted to use you. We go back, and you do good work. But with two thousand platinum coming from the sale of that stud, I couldn't afford to let sentiment and goodwill get in the way of opportunity and common sense."

Mal gritted his teeth, his eyes drifting past the wooden fence to Serenity, resting a hundred yards off in the field behind Marsh's ranch. Mal was quite aware that two-thousand platinum rode on the deal. His delivery fee would have been twenty percent. Even with the crew's shares taken out, it would still have meant months of expenses covered. An empty fuel tank doesn't care about a priceless laser pistol hidden behind the false panel on the engine room wall.

"Work that scarce?" Marsh asked.

"Getting by," Mal muttered.

"Look, Mal," Marsh said, releasing the mare and allowing her to wander freely. "I feel poorly about this. Your momma did me a kindness, taking me on as a hand back on Shadow, and I know you put in a good word for me back when I was running guns during the war. I've got an idea. There's another job. Now, I'm a little short of coin, what with the upfronts on the stud, but if you're willing to buy into the deal...."

"I don't pay for the privilege of working," Mal said.

"Will ya hear me out? I've got another horse, with a buyer lined up on Atreus. I'll let you have him for thirty platinum. The deal's for three hundred. It's in writing, straight off the Cortex, so by law they can't revoke for two weeks. You keep whatever you get, so that's two-seventy clear for you. No return trip, and this horse has all his papers. It's legal, so no risk that the Alliance is gonna be a problem. Easy money."

Mal scowled. "If it's such an easy job, why's the deal so favorable to me?"

"Because the stud I just shipped ain't legal," Marsh explained. "I got him on the sly. I ship another horse now, and the Alliance starts checking on every ship that's broken atmo here for the past month just to balance my books. I'm already damn near my limit on offworld livestock trades. The last thing I need is the Feds poking into my business with a hot pony on the move. The horse I'm offering you ain't worth smuggler's rates, and I can't sell him honest. Sounds like the perfect job for you."

"Fine," Mal said. "So if the point is to keep the job under wraps, how you figure I'm not gonna let on I have the horse if I got legal papers?"

"I know you, Mal," Marsh replied. "You'll stay out of the way of the Feds, whether on account of your disposition, past indiscretions, or just plain force of habit. You get in a tight spot, show the papers. Otherwise, just do what you do best."

Mal paused, then said:

"I'm gonna want a look at this horse, and see this offer."

"I can do the first right now," Marsh said, walking back to the stable. After a moment, he lead out a horse with a dark chestnut coat, and a narrow white blaze running down between its eyes.

"This one's a keeper," Marsh said. "I'd never let him go if I weren't getting out of the breeding business. No one's better than old Barney here at what he does."

"And what exactly would that be?" Inara inquired, approaching from the stable. Her left hand grasped the azure silk of her dress at her thigh, lifting the hem away from the dusty ground.

Mal turned toward Inara and asked:

"I thought you were staying on the ship?"

"I was," Inara replied. "But since we have yet again found ourselves on a planet with no potential clients for me to meet, I thought I might at least soak up some of the local color. I'm glad I did. You should really stick to geisha dolls, Mal. Horses require a certain expertise."

Inara turned toward the horse, reached out her hand, and traced her finger along the side of the horse's face. 

"He's been kicked," Inara said. "More than once, and not just on the face. He's not hand shy, but who knows what other injuries he's suffered? Also, he's walleyed, and cow-hocked. He's too small for draft work, doesn't have the legs for riding, and since he's obviously of mixed breeding, he's of no use for stud."

Inara turned and stared at Mal, a look of smug satisfaction on her face, and said:

"You'd stand a better chance of making three hundred platinum if you offered to _shi fei_ a mare yourself."

"Well, I'd expect you to be the expert on that," Mal replied, stepping forward and squinting at the side of the horse's face. "But I will admit, I did not take notice of the face. Yep, he's been kicked. But he's not hand shy. Not one bit."

"He ain't shy of nothin'," Marsh said.

"How many kicks?" Mal asked.

"More than his share," Marsh answered. "Which still ain't nothin' compared to the times he ain't been kicked."

"Really," Mal said, his mind racing. Thirty platinum was the whole supply fund, plus some of the emergency stash, but....

"Just about every mare I got ain't kicked him, one time or another," Marsh continued. "Half what I got saved is thanks to Barney here. The kicks happen. Not nearly as often for Barney, but kicks happen."

Marsh turned toward Inara and said:

"There's always kicks where women folk are concerned."

"I'm gonna want to see your ledgers," Mal said. "And have a look at that offer on Atreus. Make sure that it wasn't obtained by exaggeration or deceit. But if it all checks out, I just bought myself a horse."

"I'll go get the waves queued right now," Marsh said. He slyly nodded at Inara, and walked quickly toward the ranch house at the end of the corral.

Inara scowled at the horse, focusing on the minute scars on the animal's face.

"Mal, this creature is worthless," Inara said. 

"For any conventional use, sure," Mal said. "But whatever book learning you got on horses must've skipped some of the more practical problems involved in making pretty little colts. An omission, I'll point out, that has an ironical element to it. Trust me, just about any stud farm between here and the Core would easily pay three hundred for him, providing they got three hundred to part with."

"Stud farm?" Inara said. "What use could a _jiu shi_ like this be on a stud farm?"

"Well, don't that beat all," Mal said, gently patting the horse on the back. "Put the word out on the Cortex: Today Malcolm Reynolds gets to tell Inara a thing or two about sex."

Marsh stood at the front window of the ranch house, and pulled back the curtain just far enough so that he could see Mal and Inara talking outside. He then pulled a comm rod from his jacket pocket and extended the small speaker outward. When Marsh heard the low chirps that indicated a clear signal, he raised the comm to his ear and said:

"He bought it. Leave now, and you'll be ready when he gets to Atreus."


	2. Part I

**__**

Part I

"I'm back!" Kaylee shouted, walking up the ramp to Serenity's cargo bay. "I got some parts, plus some other stuff the local trading post said we can get a good price for as we get closer to the Core. Folks out here ain't got much to spend on...oh, shiny!"

Kaylee ran to the edge of the makeshift steel pen that Book and Jayne were securing with rope. The horse inside the enclosure took a tentative step toward Kaylee as she approached.

"Ain't he something," Kaylee said, propping the box she carried under one arm, and petting the horse under the chin with her now free hand.

"Two-hundred-plus profit makes ol' Barney as pretty as a geisha in my book," Jayne replied.

"He certainly has an even temperament," Book observed.

"He's just a sweet boy," Kaylee said. "Ain't ya, Barney? I'll bet the lady horses'll be pleased as all when they get to meet this fella."

"Well, meeting's what he's for," Jayne said. "Course, his _gong jing_ won't get the chance to close the deal."

"What?" Kaylee asked.

"Mal says he's a teaser pony," Jayne replied.

"A teaser pony," Kaylee repeated. "What's that?"

"You heard of testing the waters?" Jayne asked. "Well, this feller tests the damper regions of fillies who are fixin' to get their play. You see, horses ain't like people."

"That's usually a correct statement," Book interjected.

"See, the preacher gets it," Jayne said. "If a lady horse ain't willing to lift her tail, you can't just call her 'dumpling' or keep her glass full. Get close when she ain't agreeable, and she'll kick behind her with all her might, and a stud ain't worth a ruttin' copper if he's holed up in a stall, nursing a busted eye socket."

"So where does Barney come in?" Kaylee asked.

"He don't," Jayne chuckled.

"A teaser pony prevents the mare from damaging a prize stallion," Book explained. "The teaser is led out to the pasture. If the mare is violently unwilling, there's no danger of injuring a horse whose bloodlines make him valuable breeding stock. If the mare presents, the teaser is led away, and the stud is brought in to...ahem...complete God's procreation plan."

"Most horses don't take to a regular mix of face-busting and blue balls," Jayne said. "They get shy, won't even leave the stall. But old Barney here just keeps taking the punishment, and that makes him a valuable commodity."

"So the teaser never gets to have sex?" Kaylee exclaimed. "He just takes a kick or gets hauled back home, all lonesome and disappointed? Oh, poor Barney!"

"It's nature's way, Kaylee," Book replied.

"Tain't nothing natural about it," Kaylee said. "Nature's when two creatures of like disposition get together as they're inclined. It takes a whole mess of stupid rules and _kuang gui ze_ to come up with such a foolish way of coupling."

"Ya know, Preacher," Jayne said. "A thought just came to me. You know how this horse here never gets to dip his wick on account of his job? That's sorta like your situation. Kinda symbolical, in a way."

"Jayne," Book sighed. "Most people would prefer not to be compared to a horse."

"Alright," Jayne said. "I won't mention it again. 'Course, if it fits, everybody's gonna be thinking it just the same."

"So we're taking him to Xanthus?" Kaylee asked.

"Atreus," Jayne corrected. "The other horse fell through."

"That's close enough," Kaylee said. "I got a passenger set up for us. She's headed to Iocasta. She didn't mind a half day out of the way to Xanthus, and Atreus ain't no farther than that. I got her to go for ten credits, which even after parts should cover our fuel costs."

"Provided she don't eat much," Jayne said.

"I doubt that'll be a problem," Kaylee said. "She's as skinny as a _ji shan_."

Jayne raised an eyebrow, then asked:

"She a woman of some attraction?"

"Jayne," Kaylee said. "You know the captain's policy on passengers."

"A policy I doubt he's relented from," Book added. "Given his prior shipboard experience with the fairer sex."

"Well, at least it's money," Jayne said. "We need every credit we can scrape. Heck, don't even want to think about how tight cash is gonna get if Inara stops renting that shuttle of hers."

"So Inara still means to leave Serenity?" Book asked.

"Yeah," Kaylee sighed. "Says she's moving on as soon as we get close enough to the Core to find another situation."

"No coin 'til Mal finds another renter," Jayne said. "Plus a drop in the eye candy between ports. Don't sound pleasant. Speaking of coin, any of that junk you picked up worth anything?"

"Well, I got some regulator plugs for the engine," Kaylee answered, fishing through the box. "And a few bits of jewelry and such that the settlers hocked. Some of it's alright. Ooh, pretty!"

Kaylee pulled out a small silver handmirror, and squinted at an inscription on the back.

"It says 'To M, from S' on it," Kaylee read. "How sweet."

"Ain't worth nothing," Jayne said. "They'll have to melt it down. Nobody's gonna pay what it's worth with somebody else's letters on it."

"Oh, I dunno," Kaylee said. "You could always just turn the 'S' into an '8.' That way, if you know an 'M' you want to give it to, you just go in on it with seven other well-wishers."

Book smiled. "Creative, and sentimental."

"Well, it only cost us three platinum for the lot," Kaylee said, tossing the mirror back into the box. "The plugs are worth that, so the rest's profit."

"Any of that stuff hot?" Jayne asked.

"Maybe," Kaylee said.

"Better stow it below, then," Jayne said, walking over to Kaylee and grabbing the box. "Best put it away before your passenger shows her skinny self."

Jayne turned and walked toward the stairs leading to the lower decks.

"What about the horse?" Kaylee asked.

"He's legal," Jayne called back, as he descended below. "No need to fib to the lady."

"Legal cargo," Kaylee said, scratching Barney behind the ears. "Always nice."

"I'd like to think it's my influence," Book replied. "But I've got more sense than that."

"The Captain's on his way," Zoe announced from the catwalk above. 

"We got a passenger," Kaylee replied. "She'll be here at noon, then we can take off."

"As long as we stay on schedule," Zoe said, turning and walking back to the bridge.

"I'd best head back to my room," Book said. "I usually say a series of prayers before we embark on one of the Captain's...enterprises."

"Think that helps?" Kaylee asked.

"Well, that depends on one's point of view," Book said. "Our propensity for finding trouble does give one pause, but the fact that we generally emerge unscathed might be considered miraculous."

Book and Kaylee exchanged smiles, then Book turned and walked away. Kaylee gave Barney a final pat on the neck, then turned to head to the engine room. 

--------------------------

"Check the mattress, Wally," Sheriff Stallings ordered, gesturing toward the bed with the barrel of his rifle.

Deputy Morgan holstered his revolver and drew a large knife from the sheath on his belt. He plunged the blade into the mattress and sliced a large gash into the fabric, as a skinny man watched from the corner with his arms folded across his chest.

"_Ke pa_," the man grumbled. "I hope you plan on payin' for that, Frank."

"That's Sheriff to you, Tanner," Stallings growled. "And we'll see who pays for what when this day's over."

"There's nothing in here," Wally said, pulling his knife from the mattress.

"Happy?" Tanner asked.

"We'll find it," Stallings replied. "Wally, check the pillows."

"Oh, c'mon," Tanner protested. "You've torn my place apart, and I still got no idea what you're looking for. Who put the fool idea in your head that I've been doing something unlawful?"

"Never mind who told me," Stallings shot back. "If it's revenge you're contemplating, I'd worry more about how you're gonna get out of this mess if I were you. Start cooperating, and maybe I'll cut you some slack."

"You're outta your cork," Tanner grumbled. "I still can't believe that the best this town could do for a sheriff was a guy who couldn't even cut it as a cattle rancher. Gorram cows had more sense than to pay you mind, then we go and put a star on your shirt."

Frank Stallings slowly walked toward Tanner, his hands clenched tightly around the rifle in his hands. He glared into Tanner's eyes, ready to snarl a threat, but then noticed that his final step toward the cowering man had made a hollow thud.

Stallings glanced down, and pounded his heel against the wooden floor. He then shoved Tanner out of the way, and shouted:

"Wally! Get that knife of yours and pull up the boards! This _huai dan's_ been standing on it the whole time!"

Wally scurried over, dropped to his knees, and worked the knife blade between the floor boards.

"They're loose," Wally observed. "There's something down here."

"Don't doubt it," Stallings said.

Tanner began to tremble, knowing that he only had a moment to act. A straight razor rested next to a water basin on the dresser against the wall. While Stallings and Morgan focused on the hole in the floor, Tanner slowly reached his hand toward the blade.

In an instant, Stalling's right arm sprang up, and Tanner found himself staring down the barrel of the Sheriff's rifle.

"Perhaps I should rectify a few misconceptions as to my timber," Stallings said, his voice even, his eyes focused and narrow. "I'll admit, I had troublesome spells, tryin' to keep my herd tended. Truth be told, I don't know cattle, or much of any other labor. Peacetime soldiers may pick up a trade, but this system wasn't so peaceable when I wore purple."

Stallings glanced quickly at Tanner's trembling fingers as they hovered an inch above the razor. 

"Six years," Stallings continued, returning his sharp gaze to Tanner's eyes. "I spent six years of war as a front line corporal, sendin' slower men to shake the hand of God. 'Course, in time, the 'verse settled on a flag. Happened to be the flag I'd killed under, which put a swell of youthful pride in my chest. Regrettably, a swell don't get meat to market. That left me mite turned around for a stretch, but I do believe I've now found myself a line of work that suits me just fine. 'Cause you see, Tanner, you are a slower man, and if you don't stand down, this day's your last."

Tanner's jaw trembled. Stallings' did not. Tanner eased his hand away from the razor, then slowly raised both arms in the air.

"We got what we need?" Stallings called back to Morgan.

"Just the packing boxes," Morgan replied, sniffing the cardboard. "They still got the scent, and that's enough to put Tanner behind bars 'til his beard's grey."

"Here that?" Stallings asked Tanner. "Now, I'm gonna drag your sorry ass back to town. Then I'm gonna scare me up a posse. If you've got half a mind to see daylight sometime before your teeth fall out of your mouth, you'll make sure I got a place to take that posse direct."

Tanner sighed, then said:

"I was just holding it for Marsh. He picked it up three days ago."

"Now, that was an intelligent moment for you," Stallings said. "Wally, slap a pair of cuffs on this _bai lei. _ After we park him in stir, we'll be calling on Johnny Marsh."

---------------------------

Kaylee gave her wrench a final turn, fastening the bolt on the regulator plug. She stopped as she heard footsteps approach.

"We have a passenger?" Simon asked, entering the engine room.

"Yep," Kaylee said, turning to face Simon as he approached. "Who told ya?"

"No one," Simon said. "I was standing outside the infirmary, and I could hear your conversation."

"How long were you listening?"

"Oh, just a minute," Simon said. "I didn't want to interrupt while you were talking."

"Really," Kaylee said, stepping closer to Simon and cocking her head to one side. "If a girl didn't know better, she'd think you were waiting for her to be alone."

Simon smiled. "Well...that is...alone is good. Once we're off the ground, everyone gets so busy, and, well, it's nice to have a few moments."

"More'n a few wouldn't be so bad, neither," Kaylee replied. "How's that leg healing?"

"Oh, that," Simon said. "It's better. I know I've been a little out of sorts. The pain killers made me babble inanely for a few days."

"Oh, nobody noticed," Kaylee said.

"Oh, um, thanks. Well, I'm off the medicine, and I've stopped limping, so I'd say I'm back to one hundred percent."

"Really," Kaylee said, smirking. "So maybe, if we can put more'n few moments together at some point, we wouldn't have to worry about that leg of yours being a bother?"

Simon's face fell, as he wondered if the lingering pain from the gunshot had made him bad company. Then he saw that Kaylee was biting her bottom lip, with a childlike eagerness in her eyes, and he realized that Kaylee was not concerned that his leg would prevent him from making pleasant conversation. 

"I'd like that," Simon said, reaching out to Kaylee, resting a hand gently on her arm, and promising himself that, this time, he would say nothing that would make him sound like a damned fool.

"Course, it may be a bit crowded until we get to Atreus," Kaylee said. "We got two passengers, with six legs between 'em. But Barney's a sweetie, and it's nice to meet new people. Come to think of it, you and our passenger might have a thing or so to speak on. She's a doctor."

"Really?" Simon said, a slight grin crossing his face. "What's she doing out here?"

"She's said she's doing something where doctors head out to the Rim to...I dunno, she said it's part of her schooling."

"Oh, yes," Simon said. "There's a program that allows doctors to do part of their residency offworld, where people might not have access to medical care. The hospital I worked at sponsored residents to spend a six month rotation on developing planets. I was actually thinking about signing up for the program, before I...."

Simon paused, his face suddenly blank.

"Kaylee," Simon finally asked. "This doctor, did she say what hospital sponsored her?"

"No," Kaylee said. "I didn't catch...oh, God! Simon, you don't think that she'd know you?"

"It's unlikely," Simon assured. "But do you remember her name?"

"Hang on," Kaylee said. "It'll come to me. It was something like a tree. No, wait. She was standing by a tree. Her name was like a...it made me think of a mountain, for some reason."

"Kaylee, this is very important," Simon said.

"I know, I know...."

Kaylee stared off as Simon focused on her lips, waiting for her to utter a name. Neither of them looked up as Mal walked into the engine room.

"We're headed out soon," Mal said. "Kaylee, get the engine prepped for takeoff, and make sure...."

"Brakestone!" Kaylee exclaimed.

"Well, good to know that my orders are getting all the attention I've grown accustomed to," Mal said. "What's a Brakestone?"

"Amelia Brakestone?" Simon gasped.

"I didn't catch her first name," Kaylee admitted.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Mal asked.

"I got a passenger," Kaylee explained. "She's a doctor. I was telling Zoe we have to wait for her, but then Simon thought that maybe she'd know him, and...."

"Money change hands?" Mal asked.

"Used it to buy parts," Kaylee said.

"Then we keep Simon and River below decks," Mal said. "Just like we did when Saffron showed up. We strand a passenger after taking payment, she reports us on the Cortex, and then we've got the Feds checking our papers and cargo at every port. Not to mention bringing attention to a firefly, which ain't good for the doctor if the Feds put two and two together. Now, Doctor, Kaylee gave you a name. You think you know this woman?"

Simon swallowed, then turned to Kaylee and asked:

"Blond hair? Long, around her shoulders? Fair skin? Blue eyes? About as tall as Zoe, maybe taller?"

"Sounds like her," Kaylee said. "She had her hair all up, and she was grubby as hell from working in that dirt floor clinic they got set up here. Hard to know for sure."

"Doctor, I'll ask again," Mal said. "Do you know this woman, or don't you?"

"Captain, perhaps we should speak alone," Simon said, his voice low.

"No," Mal said, his voice anything but low. "Perhaps you should speak right now. I don't got time for games. Now, for the last time, do you know her?"

Simon's eyes darted over to Kaylee, then back to Mal.

"We were interns together," Simon said. "Are you sure you can't simply explain to her that she should wait for another ship to...?"

"Ships on lawful business come by this rock about once a month," Mal said. "We say we'll take her, then we don't, as I said, that's a whole mess of trouble for all concerned. Heck, by law, if I'm trading on a rock this far out, I'm supposed to take passengers who make the request even if it's out of the way. Now, I've got valuable cargo, and it's legal, and I'm in no mood for trouble that I ain't made for myself. So, we'll just stow you and your sister away like before, and everything should be alright."

"We'll have to be careful," Simon said. "Any sign that I've been on this ship...a piece of clothing, something in the infirmary...she could easily notice...."

"Now, Doctor," Mal said. "There's no need to be skittish. You've been on the run awhile, so I'd think you'd be accustomed by now to...."

"How well did you know her?" Kaylee interrupted.

Simon didn't answer.

Mal looked at Kaylee's expression, then at Simon's, and he realized that she'd sensed something that he had not.

"Well, Doctor," Mal said. "Sounds like a fair question. We're all sticking our necks out, we gotta right to know how far. So, who is this woman to you?"

Simon's eyes fell to the ground. He then looked up, took a long, deep breath, and said:

"She was my fiance."


	3. Part II

**__**

Part II

At first, Kaylee thought that the woman approaching on the loading ramp could not have been the same Dr. Brakestone she'd seen at the clinic. Simon had described her accurately. With her hair loose, it did fall to her shoulders, and her skin was quite fair with the grime of the dirt floor clinic washed from her face. She wore a simple white cotton dress, belted with a bright blue silk sash. 

"Damn," Jayne muttered to Kaylee, who stood between him and Wash, as Zoe, Mal, and Inara waited closer to the entrance. "Way you described her, I expected her to be some _lou bi_. But lookin' at her...damn!"

"She was all messed up before," Kaylee sighed. "She must've cleaned up for travelling. I guess there are some women who can do a day's work, then just fluff up and be beautiful."

"She's a fine thing if ever there was one," Jayne said. "And with the doctor stowed below decks, I guess that means any one of us is fair game to get a piece."

Kaylee's eyes dropped.

"Hey, Jayne," Wash said. "Why don't you go tell the lady doctor that, in just those words? I'll bet she'll melt like butter, at such a poetical expression of your admiration."

"Ain't you funny," Jayne mumbled. "Still, someone should carry her bags."

Jayne trotted over to wait with the Captain.

"Don't mind him," Wash told Kaylee. "When he says stupid things, it's just because he's a stupid man."

"He ain't so dumb," Kaylee said. "He's right about her. She's something. Any guy'd be a fool not to want her. She's beautiful. And she's a doctor, so she must be smart and rich and all that. Heck, you have a woman like that on your arm for a spell, nothing else is ever gonna measure up. _Ou duan su lian_."

"That's not true," Wash argued.

"Yeah, it is," Kaylee said. "I mean, every time I get inside an arm's length of Simon, he pulls back like I've got plague. Ain't no other reason, except 'cause I ain't on the same level as what he's had before."

"Kaylee," Wash said. "If that's what's going through the doctor's head, then he's dumber than Jayne. What are the odds of that?"

"I'm open to other explanations," Kaylee said. "But that just seems to be the way it is."

At the top of the loading ramp, Mal extended a hand toward Dr. Brakestone.

"Doctor," Mal said, shaking her hand. "I'm Malcolm Reynolds, Captain of Serenity. This is my first mate, Zoe, and this is...."

"I'm Jayne Cobb," Jayne said, grabbing the bag from Dr. Brakestone's hands. "I'll just take this to the room we got set up for ya. Anything you need, I'm your man. Anything at all."

"Um, thank you," Dr. Brakestone replied.

"Yep," Jayne continued. "You name it. Just holler 'Jayne,' and I'll do whatever...."

"Jayne," Mal said gravely.

"Oh, right," Jayne said. "I'll just get your bag stowed. Hey, see! It works!"

Jayne took a last look at Dr. Brakestone, then hurried off to the catwalk.

"You have your own baggage handler?" Dr. Brakestone asked.

"As of ten minutes ago, apparently," Mal replied. "Anyway, as I was saying, this is Zoe."

"Pleasure, Doctor," Zoe chimed in.

"Please," Dr. Brakestone said. "Call me Amelia. There's no need for formality."

"Oh, and this is Inara," Mal said. "She's a companion, rents from us. You'll be staying in her shuttle for the trip. Figured you'd be a little more comfortable there."

"Oh, I'd hate to put you out," Amelia said. 

"Oh, not at all," Inara responded. "I'll be staying in the crew's quarters."

"I really don't require special accommodations," Amelia argued.

"Oh, it's more practical," Mal said. "The lower decks are full with cargo."

"I noticed I'm not the only passenger," Amelia said, gesturing toward Barney's pen. 

"Yeah," Mal said. "We got ourselves a horse. I thought Kaylee mentioned it."

"She did say we might be stopping before we reach Iocasta," Amelia replied. "She was very informative."

Amelia spied Kaylee standing by the pen next to Wash. Amelia waved to Kaylee, who sighed, then weakly waved back.

"Still," Amelia continued. "I really don't mind staying below. I'm sure I can make room for myself."

"Oh, you don't want to stay down there," Inara said. "The cargo is somewhat...well, Mal, you tell her."

"Um," Mal said. "Well, it's...that is, there's a lot of...you know...."

"Please, Captain Reynolds," Inara said. "There's no need to be embarrassed. It's respectable work. After all, what would the farmers on Atreus do, without the manure you're bringing to fertilize their crops?"

"Manure," Mal repeated.

"Manure?" Amelia asked.

"Oh, tons of it," Inara said. "The lower decks have been outfitted especially for the transport of manure. It's Captain Reynolds' specialty."

"I don't know that I'd go so far as to say it's my specialty," Mal shot back.

"Oh, Captain, don't be modest," Inara said. "Mal's moved more manure between planets than anyone. There are some that have taken to calling him 'Manure Malcolm.'"

"Not more than once," Mal growled.

"Well, I can see why you'd need to make, um, adjustments," Amelia said.

"We are primarily a cargo ship," Mal said. "If you'd prefer to wait for the next boat to come, we'd understand."

"That will be unnecessary," Amelia said. "I'm sure the accommodations will be fine."

"There'd be no hard feelings," Mal said. "In fact, given our timetable, it might be best for all concerned if you...."

"I'm afraid I must insist, Captain," Amelia interrupted. "I'm due for my next rotation on Iocasta within two weeks. I couldn't possibly take the chance that another ship wouldn't arrive before then. If I miss the start of my rotation, I'd have to justify that to the Board, and they would of course insist that I report the matter to the Federal authorities."

"No need for that," Mal said. "Just presenting options. We'll be set to take off inside of twenty minutes. Zoe, if you wouldn't mind showing the doctor to her room."

"Follow me," Zoe said.

Zoe walked toward the catwalk, with Amelia trailing close behind.

"Manure?" Mal asked, once Amelia was out of earshot.

"It seemed to fit," Inara said. "And it seemed a more credible cover story than anything you were about to stammer."

Before Mal could come up with a reply, Wash and Kaylee walked over to them.

"She buy it?" Wash asked.

"Every word," Mal answered. "But no sense pushing our luck. Can you get us to Iocasta first, then swing us to Atreus without losing time?"

"We'll be pushing it," Wash said. "Burning fuel faster than we'd like. But we can do it."

"The profit on Barney's worth a little extra on the overhead," Mal said. "Kaylee, can the engine run hot awhile?"

"I'll pat Serenity down with a cold cloth if it'll get Dr. Brakestone off the ship a half day sooner," Kaylee responded. "Um, I mean, if it'll get the deal done right."

"Alright, let's get to that," Mal said. "Kaylee, do what you got to do with the engine. Wash, take us out of the world."

Wash walked toward the catwalk, and Kaylee headed back to the engine room.

"So we'll be on Iocasta first?" Inara asked.

"Yep," Mal said. "We'll get there in about two days time, then head to Atreus."

"You'll have to pick me up on Iocasta after you deliver the horse," Inara said. "I...I have work."

"Oh," Mal said. "Uh, yeah. Well, that shouldn't be a problem."

"It's only for a half day," Inara said.

"Not a problem," Mal said. "I'm just surprised you found a client, this far out on the Rim."

"He owns the plastics mill," Inara explained. "He must be parting with a month's profit."

"Yeah, well, wouldn't want to disappoint him," Mal said, turning and walking away.

"Mal," Inara called.

Mal stopped, but did not turn to face Inara.

"Look," Inara said. "If it's too much trouble for you to come back, I can cancel the...."

"No trouble," Mal muttered. "Just a short leg on a long trip. Besides, you won't be troubling us much longer, now, will you?"

Mal waited for Inara to answer. When she didn't, he continued walking toward the stairs.

-----------------------

"She's got it in her head that there's a load of manure down here," Jayne said, dropping a box of food packets in the corner of the room. "That'll keep her from wandering below decks."

"Sounds like we'll be safe," Simon said, pacing the floor in front of the bed where River sat up, rifling through the box that Kaylee had brought back to Serenity.

"These don't belong together," River mumbled, pulling a locket from the box. "Mrs. Cole's necklace cannot be with Mr. Pender's collar stays. Mr. Pender becomes furious when women prattle about the weather and such nonsense."

"I'd keep her quiet," Jayne warned. "Manure don't send crazy talk echoing through the vents."

"She'll be fine," Simon said. "Mela won't ever know....Jayne?"

"What?" 

"How...how did she look?" Simon asked.

"Ruttin' amazing," Jayne replied. "A little skinny for my tastes, but still a gorram fine woman if there ever was one. She ain't fat or wrinkled or nothin', if that's your question."

"You might find this hard to believe, but it wasn't," Simon sighed. "What I meant was, did she look...happy?"

"Can't speak on that," Jayne said. "Course, fine lady like that can't be too pleased out here. Speaking of which, let me ask you a question. This lady of yours, well, she ain't no more, is she?"

"What?"

"Ain't yours," Jayne said. "You took off, so I figure all's fair, if another fella were to find a window of opportunity, if, you know, the fella...took it."

Simon closed his eyes, and shook is head.

"Jayne," Simon said. "Do you have a deck of cards?"

"Why?"

"From past experience, I thought it best to ask before I reacted to your _incredible lack of anything resembling decorum!_"

"Whatever," Jayne said. "Normally I'd tell you what a prissy little...priss...you are, but I must admit, Doctor, you have risen some in my estimation. Seein' the tail you used to score back when you were all rich and respectable like, heck, makes me wonder if I should have taken a crack at some book learnin' my own self."

"Ugh," Simon groaned. "You are...she wasn't just...it wasn't like that!"

"Huh?" Jayne grunted. "What you mean? You ain't sayin' you never tapped that barrel? 'Cause then my estimation would fall right back down."

"Of course we...I'm not discussing this with you!"

"They had plans," River said, her voice low, her eyes cast into the box on her lap. "This is a box full of plans. There's a trade in plans and dreams and intentions. The exchange is seldom favorable. The prettiest, shiniest plans...sometimes you get nothing but a bed on a ship to nowhere."

"River," Simon said. "It's not...you can't blame yourself for...."

"Merely observations," River replied. "Just impressions, still unclear. When I know more, I'll share."

River's attention returned to the box in her lap. Simon swallowed, searching for words. None came.

"Anyways," Jayne said. "Going back to what we were talking about before, let's say, next couple of days, the lady starts to feel a little lonesome out here in the black, and...."

"Will you please just leave?" Simon groaned.

"Fine," Jayne said, sliding the door open. "Just seemed reasonable to me. Ain't that much opportunity out here for a guy to get his play. If it was some woman that had me hiding out down here, I'd tell you to have a _xing jie chu_ if you had a clear shot."

"It wasn't like that," Simon said, forcing his tone to stay low as Jayne walked out of the room and slid the door closed.

Simon drew a deep breath and leaned against the far wall of the room. River was still sitting on the bed, engrossed in the box of trinkets. There was only one bed, and Simon wasn't tired. The packaged food was even less appetizing than the mush in the galley, and Simon wasn't hungry.

And, of course, Jayne had forgotten to leave a deck of cards.

Simon sighed, then whispered to no one:

"It wasn't like that at all."

----------------------

__

Osiris, Unification Day, 2515

"And here we are," Amelia said, opening the door to the hotel suite and touching the pad on the wall that turned on the lights.

"Very nice," Simon said, following Amelia into the room, and casually wrapping his arm around her waist.

"It should be," Amelia replied. "It costs my father a fortune to keep this room rented for clients."

"I suppose the sixth largest shipping magnate in the 'verse can well afford it," Simon observed.

"Fifth," Amelia corrected. "Horatio Pandrake got caught shipping pistol ammunition out to the Rim without papers. He lost half of his trading permits."

"Unbelievable," Simon said. "Taking all that risk to move contraband. Can you believe what some people will do for a little money?"

"Simon," Amelia said, pulling away. "Your righteous moral outrage is usually one of your more attractive features. However, tonight we have attended one of the most extravagant parties in the history of this planet. The wine, the music, and the fireworks were all exquisite, and you never smiled once. And now we're able to enjoy absolute privacy, without the prying eyes of my father, your father, or anyone's father for that matter. The least you could do is mention my dress."

Amelia opened her arms and quickly spun around, a silent wave of green gossamer and white silk spinning with her.

"Very nice," Simon said.

"Nice," Amelia repeated. "Nice. Just what a girl wants to hear. You're lucky that your talent for understatement is also among your more attractive qualities."

"I'm sorry," Simon said. "I've just been a little preoccupied lately."

"Of course you are," Amelia said, walking to Simon and encircling his waist with her arms. "I know it's hard. But your residency is nearly over, and the hours will become much more...."

"It's not that," Simon said, reaching his own arms around Amelia. "I've just been, I don't know...."

"Well, Doctor," Amelia said, pulling an arm away from Simon's waist and reaching up to loosen his tie. "I may only be a lowly internal medicine student who took the normal two years to finish her internship, but why don't we see if there's anything Doctor Brakestone can do to make you feel better?"

"Well, Mela, I guess I'm your patient," Simon whispered, his mouth spreading into a gentle smile.

"Don't call me that," she said, giving Simon's tie a playful tug. "It makes me sound like I'm a child. You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Maybe I just want a reaction, Mela?" Simon teased, lowering his head toward Amelia's lips.

"You may not like the one you get," Amelia warned, a sly grin crossing her face.

"I'll take my chances," Simon murmured.

Amelia released her hand from Simon's tie, reached around to the back of his neck, and pulled him closer for a kiss....

...as a small plastic disc in Simon's jacket pocket began to chirp.

"_Bu fang bian_," Simon groaned.

"You'd better check it," Amelia said, pulling away. "It may be the hospital."

"They have three other surgeons on call," Simon grumbled, pulling the disc from his pocket and walking over to the computer on the desk against the wall. "At least your clinic doesn't page you on holidays."

"Oh, they still might," Amelia said. "There's been a horrible outbreak of Bistayne's Disease in the fringe district."

"Do you still think medicine can save humanity?" Simon said, inserting the disc into the computer's data slot and waiting for the text to load.

"Doctors can save humanity," Amelia replied. "One patient at a time. You taught me that."

"Really?" Simon said, grinning. "Do I sound that sanctimonious? Because if I...."

Simon's voice trailed off as he read the text that had appeared on the screen.

"Well?" Amelia asked.

"I've received a Post delivery," Simon said. "It's from River. It will be delivered to my parents' home tomorrow."

"A Post? Since when does the Post Service send private pages?"

"Since I paid the Post Officer at the Delivery Center twenty credits," Simon answered.

"Simon!" Amelia gasped. "That's...I mean, isn't that...illegal?"

"It's a favor," Simon said, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "Nothing will come of it."

"But, why?"

"Amelia, I haven't heard from River in almost a year. I've sent her letter after letter, with no reply, and I've been sending waves to the Academy for months. I was starting to think...."

"Think what?" Amelia asked.

"I don't know what to think," Simon said. "I just want to know that she's all right."

"She's probably just engrossed in her studies," Amelia replied.

"Which makes it all the more suspect," Simon said. "Trust me, every piece of knowledge that River gains is another opportunity for her to show off her intelligence, and to tell me, 'Simon, you're a dummy.' You know what a brat she can be about that sort of thing."

"She's sixteen," Amelia said. "Maybe she's homesick, or smitten with some boy, or in some kind of trouble at school. But if there was anything seriously wrong, you would have heard something."

"Something seriously wrong is the only reason not to hear."

"And now you have heard," Amelia said. "So everything must be fine."

Amelia raised her eyebrows, and cocked her head to one side.

"I suppose that makes sense," Simon admitted.

"Of course it does," Amelia said. "Look, you've got a letter waiting for you. It will be there in the morning. You'll read it. You'll feel better. You'll write her back with admissions of your foolish concerns. She'll write you back to tell you, yet again, that you're a dummy. And all will be right in the 'verse."

Simon bit his lip, shook his head, and smiled.

"You're right," Simon sighed.

"Of course I'm right," Amelia said. "_Kun huo_, Simon, you're really something. Here we are on Unification Day, celebrating four years of justice and peace and prosperity for all mankind. And you're so distracted, because your sister's too busy to be a pest, that you haven't even take the time to make proper love to me."

Simon smirked, and walked over to Amelia.

"I suppose I have been neglecting you," Simon said, cupping Amelia's cheek in one hand, and unfastening a button on the side of her gown with the other.

"I'll bet you haven't even thought of my birthday," Amelia purred, reaching for the buckle of Simon's belt.

"Two weeks from Thursday," Simon whispered, releasing another button, then sliding a hand underneath the silk of Amelia's dress. 

"Still haven't bought me anything, I'm sure," Amelia breathed, as Simon's thumb traced tiny circles on her bottom lip.

"I was thinking of a new cryoscope," Simon mumbled, undoing the final button that sent Amelia's gown slithering to the floor.

"_Ai ya_, Simon," Amelia grunted, grasping Simon's shirt and pulling him down to the floor. "I'm your fiance, not your lab partner. Get me something pretty." 

"Whatever you say, Mela," Simon replied, lowering his head to kiss the nape of her neck.

Amelia shuddered as she felt the warmth of Simon's lips on her skin, and moaned:

"Don't call me that...."

----------------------

"Don't you call me that!" Marsh yelled, poking the barrel of his rifle out of the ranch house window and firing two shots. "Damn you, Frank Stallings, you call me that again and I'll put a hole in you that'll...!"

Marsh was cut off by two shots that struck the window frame. He crouched for cover.

"Johnny Marsh, I called you a coward and a crook!" Stallings shouted to the window, as he knelt behind the corner of the corral. "And this tin star on my chest says I can call you what I gorram well please while I shoot at your crooked, coward ass!"

Marsh quickly checked his ammunition, then looked toward Dusty and Eddie as they crouched at the window on the opposite wall, and asked:

"How many you figure?"

"Counting Sheriff Stallings, I count six," Dusty replied.

"Figures he'd bring a posse," Eddie mumbled.

"Who you think tipped him off?" Dusty asked.

"Don't know, don't care," Marsh said, springing up long enough to fire two quick shots, then dropping fast enough to avoid the volley of gunfire that followed. "The pony's airborne, and I wasn't planning to stay on this rock longer than it took for the deal to go down."

"Hang on," Eddie said, squinting out the window. He waited a moment, then lifted his rifle and fired a single shot. An instant later, he fell and screamed as a bullet caught his arm.

"Eddie!" Dusty howled, as his brother clutched his wounded arm.

"I'm alright," Eddie groaned. "Just a graze. I saw Wally Morgan tryin' to steal his way to the side door. I more'n grazed him, and judgin' by his fall, I'd say he's stayin' down."

Marsh and Dusty exchanged solemn looks. A line had been crossed. A man with a badge was dead. 

"Perfect," Marsh grumbled. "Just perfect. What the hell else can go wrong?"

At that moment, the comm rod in Marsh's pocket chirped.

"Hell," Marsh growled, dropping his rifle, pulling his pistol from its holster with his right hand, and fishing the comm out of his jacket with his left. After a burst of gunfire shattered the glass of the window, he lifted the comm to his ear and shouted:

"What?"

"It's me," a voice from the comm replied. "We've got a problem."

"Pritchard!" Marsh hollered. "I've got a lawman's blood on my dirt, and there's five more just like him lookin' to put lead under my skin! Your problem can wait!"

"It's Serenity," Pritchard calmly continued. "She's off course."

"She's what!?" Marsh exclaimed, as a shot passed over his head and shattered a vase that rested on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Hang on," Marsh sighed, as he stood up, thrust his pistol out the window, and fired five rapid shots into the side of the corral, sending a cluster of splinters flying from the wooden wall. A careful sixth shot tore through the damaged wall, striking Frank Stallings and sending him to the ground.

Marsh pivoted away from the window, stood flat against the wall, and said:

"Dusty, I just evened the odds a piece. Take that no-account brother of yours outside and finish this."

"What?" Dusty cried. "Are you touched? There's still four lawmen out there!"

"And I'm in here," Marsh said as raised his pistol, pointing it at the two men. "And I'll conclude your journey through this 'verse if you don't get your tails out there and get this done. Figure the odds, and I think you'll see clear to do what I say."

Dusty took a moment, figuring the odds. Marsh had the drop on them, and Eddie was nursing an arm graze on top of that. Even if they got lucky with Marsh, they'd still have to deal with the posse outside, and with one deputy killed, surrender was not an option.

Dusty looked over to his brother, who shrugged. Dusty set his jaw, then kicked open the back door and ran out into the open. Eddie followed close behind. 

"Now what's this about that gorram ship?" Marsh shouted over the hail of gunfire erupting outside.

"We've got it on the scope," Pritchard said. "It's not on its way to Atreus. Looks like it's headed toward Iocasta. Think that Reynolds fella caught on?"

"Doubt it," Marsh said, walking over to the far wall and taking a quick peek out the window. Eddie's corpse was sprawled on the ground, but judging from the two bodies by the hay bales, he'd managed to give worse than he got before he went down. Dusty crouched by the hitching post, trading shots with two deputies behind the water pump.

"He probably found another buyer," Marsh continued, walking back to open the front door. "Can't have that."

"We could hail him," Pritchard said. "Let him know the real cargo. Give him a cut."

"He'd never go for it," Marsh said, walking out of the door toward Sheriff Stallings, who was weakly crawling toward the pistol that had fallen from his holster. "He's got a streak of nobility that can be strong and problematical. Can you beat him to Iocasta?"

"Not as hard as they're burning," Pritchard said.

"Hold a spell," Marsh said into the comm, as he stood over Stallings and observed the man's struggle. Marsh's bullet had pierced the Sheriff's chest and exited through his back, but Stallings continued his vain attempt to reach his gun.

"Well, ain't you tough," Marsh observed, as he aimed his pistol at Stalling's head. "Still in all, you should have stuck to chasin' strays."

Marsh pulled the trigger, and Stalling's body slumped to the ground. Marsh turned and lifted the comm back to his ear.

"Drop back," Marsh instructed, walking back to the house. "Get in their wake so they don't spot you. If they land on Iocasta, scare up some local talent and get the horse back. No sense taking heed of appearances at this point."

"Pony's no good full of holes," Pritchard argued.

"Then be sure that you don't put any holes in the pony," Marsh said, as he walked inside. "Just in anyone that stands in your way of him."

"Even Reynolds?"

"Especially Reynolds. Mix in revengeful with noble, strong, and problematical, and you got a man I have no inclination to see again. Take care of it."

"On it," Pritchard said, cutting the transmission.

Marsh shoved the comm rod back into his pocket, then took a peek out the back window. Another deputy lay dead on the ground. Dusty was wounded in both legs and his left shoulder, but he was still trading shots with the final deputy crouched at the well.

Marsh walked out of the back door. Both Dusty and the deputy froze for a moment as he emerged. That moment was enough time for Marsh to level his pistol and fire a single shot into the lawman's neck. As the deputy fell, Dusty heaved a sigh of relief, then grimaced as the silence allowed him to become aware of the pain from his wounds. 

"Well, that's done," Marsh said. "Now, if we can just get that ruttin' pony on the way to where it's supposed to go, we'll be just fine."

"The pony?" Dusty gasped, grabbing the wooden rail of the hitching post and struggling to his feet. "What happened?"

"A complication," Marsh grumbled. "I hate complications. You know the one thing I hate worse than complications?"

"What's that?" Dusty mumbled.

"Loose ends," Marsh replied, as he lifted his pistol and fired a bullet into Dusty's chest. The force of the shot sent Dusty reeling over the rail.

Marsh stepped over Dusty's corpse as he made his way to the storm cellar. Under the cellar's floor boards, in three pieces, was a single-man shuttle-skiff that could be assembled in under an hour. It was old and uncomfortable, designed only for use as an escape vehicle on orbital platforms. However, with the fuel Marsh had concealed among the pesticide canisters, it could break out of the atmosphere and get to the refuelling station at Vespa. From there, the craft could easily reach Atreus in time to close the deal on the horse.


	4. Part III

**__**

Part III

"You can just take a seat at the end, Doctor," Mal said, gesturing toward an empty chair at the corner of the dinner table. 

"Please, Captain, call me Amelia," she replied as she entered the galley.

"Call me Mal," he replied.

"That'd be right next to me," Jayne said, scurrying behind Amelia and pulling her chair back, as he had seen Simon do for Kaylee.

"Why, thank you," Amelia said, walking in front of the chair and turning to face the table.

"Glad to," Jayne said, walking past her and taking his own seat.

Amelia stood for a moment, cast a puzzled look back at the chair left two feet behind her, then sat down and scooted her chair forward. She flashed a polite smile at Jayne, who grinned from ear to ear. Mal and Inara exchanged wry glances, Zoe smirked, and Wash rolled his eyes.

Kaylee kept her eyes cast down at the table.

"Dinner is served," Book announced, walking to the table with a two large bowls and setting them at the table before taking his own seat.

"The brown protein's got salt," Mal said to Amelia. "The grey stuff the preacher usually throws a dash of pepper into."

"I added a pinch of oregano this evening," Book said. "In honor of our guest."

"I'm sure it's wonderful," Amelia said. "A welcome break from the dehydrated mealbars we had at the clinic."

Book raised his open hands, then brought them together. Amelia, catching his meaning, lowered her head for grace.

Mal noticed Amelia raise her eyes slightly at the silence. He followed her glances as she noted the bowed heads of the crew, and as she observed his own head lifted high, but his hands flat and still on the table. 

When Book raised his head, and the rest of the crew followed suit, Amelia flashed a slight smile at Mal, then took the bowl Wash passed to her. It had taken a month for the Preacher and the Captain to wordlessly compromise on their mealtime ritual. It had taken Amelia less than a minute to ascertain its meaning.

'Smart girl,' Mal thought. 'Real sense of people. Simon must've been richer than I thought.'

"Wash, what's our position?" Mal asked, grabbing the other bowl from Inara and scooping a glob of the brown goop onto his plate.

"We'll reach Iocasta in the morning," Wash said. "Which will be their dusk."

"We're headed straight to Iocasta?" Amelia asked.

"Yep," Mal replied. "Inara's got a client waiting for her, so we figured we'd go there first as a courtesy to you both."

"Oh, don't bother on my account," Amelia said. "I'm already arriving more than a week before I'm due."

"It's really more for me," Inara said. "My timetable can be somewhat demanding."

"So how'd you get so far out on the rim, Doctor?" Wash asked.

"There's a program," Amelia replied. "It brings doctors to the outer planets, where medical care is generally unavailable."

"Something to do with schooling, ain't it?" Mal asked.

"That's one program," Amelia said. "But I've completed my residency. This is another program for doctors who are young enough to weather some of the more difficult challenges of life out here."

"Must be good experience for a doctor," Zoe said. "Lots of folks out here are sick, or hurt."

"Well, my specialty is emergency medicine," Amelia said. "And some of the health problems are educational, and definitely unique. On one planet, I actually treated a patient who got a concussion from a goose. The bird's bill hit him square between the eyes. Apparently people juggle them for sport."

Zoe scowled, and glanced at Wash out of the corner of her eye. Wash stopped chewing long enough to raise his eyebrows and smile.

"But in a way it's somewhat of a professional hindrance," Amelia continued. "When I complete my year out here, I'll be a little behind. The medical technology of the Central planet hospitals advances almost daily. It could take me six months just to catch up."

"So why?" Kaylee asked, raising her eyes from the small portions of food she'd spooned onto her plate.

"Why what?" Amelia asked.

"Why do it?" Kaylee explained. "I mean, if you'd be a better doctor, and life wouldn't be so much of a 'challenge,' why do it?"

"Someone has to," Amelia answered. "People out here need doctors."

"I suppose," Kaylee sighed, then forced a weak smile.

"I think it's estimable," Book said. "Those that have, give. It's the Lord's way."

"The 'verse needs more kind-hearted folk," Jayne said through a mouthful of mush.

"Please, it's really nothing," Amelia said. "Many doctors participate in the program, and I had my own reasons for...that is, I needed...."

Amelia's voice trailed off, as her eyes drifted down to her plate. She absently poked a chopstick into the protein compound, then raised her eyes and said:

"I found myself suddenly needing a change of scenery. There were, well, personal issues."

Serenity's crew exchanged glances in spite of themselves.

"Most folks out here got something they left behind," Mal said, breaking the silence.

"Some don't," Amelia replied, forcing a smile. "In any event, the work is rewarding in its own way."

"Captain," Kaylee said, rising from her seat. "I best go tend to Serenity. Check the engines and such."

Mal looked up at Kaylee's solemn expression, then said:

"Suppose you best."

"Scuse me, all," Kaylee said, then scurried out of the dining room.

"Nothing wrong, I hope?" Amelia asked.

"Sometime's Kaylee just needs to sit with her engine a spell," Mal replied.

Mal cast a glimpse at Inara. They exchanged looks of concern, then resumed eating.

---------------

"A bit cramped for two," Inara said, slipping a beige camisole over her head. "But we'll make do."

"I suppose," Kaylee muttered, swinging slightly in the hammock that now hung in her room.

"Of course, it's probably the best arrangement," Inara continued, reaching into her small satin bag and taking out a crystal vial. "Shepherd Book can't stay below with the 'manure,' and it doubt either Mal or Jayne would be good company for him. Better for him to take the spare bunk."

"Yep," Kaylee replied.

"Did you remember to seal the airlock doors?" Inara said, pouring a small dab of the lotion from the vial onto her fingertip and rubbing it gently into her hands. "So Dr. Brakestone can't leave the shuttle?"

"Checked it twice," Kaylee said, as she stared at the opposite wall.

Early in their training, Companions were taught the Rule of Three: If three attempts at small talk do not prompt a person to lower their defenses, one can either give up, or be direct. Inara chose to be direct.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Inara asked.

Kaylee shrugged, then shook her head and groaned:

"She's perfect."

"She's not perfect," Inara said, sitting on Kaylee's bed. "Nobody is."

"She's closer'n most," Kaylee sighed. "I mean, I know it's kinda petty, but I was hoping that she'd be all snooty and such. Turns out, she goes out of her way to come out here and help folks, and it's all on account of her broken heart over Simon."

"That hardly qualifies as perfection," Inara argued.

"It must in Simon's eyes," Kaylee replied.

"Kaylee," Inara said. "I've met some of the richest men in the Core. Most of them have buildings, even cities named after them, from giving money away to charities. That doesn't make them better men, despite their desire to have people believe that it does. There's a difference between giving what you can easily spare, and giving whatever it takes. Simon gave that for River. He knows the difference, and I'm sure that he can find all sorts of people in the 'verse that would impress him just as much as Dr. Brakestone."

"Maybe," Kaylee mumbled.

"Speaking of giving," Inara said. "You don't need to give up your bed."

"It's alright," Kaylee said. "It won't be the first night I've spent in a hammock."

"It wouldn't be mine, either."

"Oh," Kaylee said absently, before she absorbed Inara's statement. "Ohhhhh, really? Does that cost extra?"

"A bit," Inara said. "And it's not an option for clients who are not physically coordinated. Injury is always a concern."

"Is it, you know, better?"

"Some clients find it pleasant."

"What about you?" Kaylee asked.

"It's not unpleasant," Inara replied. "It doesn't really matter what...well, it's something you sometimes do."

Kaylee glanced over at Inara. The Companion's eyes had lost their focus, as they sometimes did in her rare unguarded moments.

Inara replaced the cap on the vial in her hands and put it back in her bag.

"That smells pretty," Kaylee said.

"Thank you," Inara said. "The scent is the same as one of my perfumes. It's called 'Skylight.' A little expensive, but I like it."

"Smells like marigolds," Kaylee observed.

"That's just the head note," Inara said. "The heart note is more of a musk."

Kaylee scowled.

"One perfume is made up of many fragrences," Inara explained. "Much like a song is made up of many notes. The head notes are the first scents that come from a perfume. They fade after several minutes. Then the heart notes emerge. Those frangrences last for a few hours, then you smell the base notes."

"Too bad they don't make engine grease with head notes," Kaylee muttered.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Inara said. "Men don't know a thing about perfume."

"Then why bother?" Kaylee asked.

"For the same reason a composer writes a symphony," Inara answered. "A room full of people who are tone deaf will still appreciate a beautiful piece played by talented muscians."

Kaylee considered this.

"You know," Kaylee said. "What you said before, that got me thinking about Simon."

"I wouldn't try anything until you get a stronger hammock," Inara warned.

"Not about that," Kaylee giggled. "No, I was thinking about what you said, about how Simon gave all he had to? Well, that's kinda what the Captain did. Simon and River need a spot to hide out, so he gives them the spot he has, even with the trouble it causes."

"I doubt he'd admit to anything so noble."

"Nope. 'Cause it wasn't for show. It was just what he had to do."

"I suppose."

"Seems like the kind of person you'd want to keep near," Kaylee said. 

"Kaylee," Inara sighed. "I think I know where you're going with this."

"It just seems to make sense, is all," Kaylee continued. "I mean, I'm sure you and the Captain could work something out. Maybe set aside times when he'd take jobs closer to the Central Planets."

"It's not that simple," Inara replied. "There are...complications involved. For a time our arrangement was of mutual benefit. It's not anymore."

"Just don't know what to hope for," Kaylee muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"With Simon and River on Serenity, we can't get too close to the finer spots," Kaylee explained. "It's like hopin' Simon's around's the same as hopin' you leave."

"Kaylee," Inara stated. "Simon is not the reason Mal avoids planets where I can work."

"Oh, I know what the Captain says," Kaylee responded. "How we got to stay clear of the lawful types on account of our smuggling, how he don't give two humps about your trade, but that's just _pi hua_. T'was just the same a year ago, and we'd still come in off the Rim pretty regular. That all changed since Simon and River signed on."

"A lot has changed since then," Inara said, absently twisting the lace on the hem of her camisole.

After a silence, Inara got up, walked over to Kaylee, and softly rested her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"You don't know what to hope for?" Inara asked, smiling gently. "Well, I'll tell you. And I want you to listen to me, _mei mei_, for this is very important: Hope that Simon never leaves. Never stop hoping for more time, more words, more chances. When you stop believing that enough time and words and chances can solve anything...well, that's when you have to give yourself permission to smile. That wouldn't suit you, Kaylee. Your smile's too much of who you are."

Kaylee looked up at Inara, her face beaming.

"Anyway," Inara said, walking back to the bed. "When when I start enjoying the sound of my own voice that much, it's time to sleep."

"Goodnight, Inara," Kaylee said.

"Goodnight," Inara replied, crawling under the covers and reaching up to turn out the lights.

Inara folded her hands on her stomach, waiting for the silence and the darkness of the room to tempt sleep, until she heard Kaylee say:

"So, how strong a hammock?"

The women's laughter echoed against the metal walls of the room.

-------------------------

"We're in atmo, Shuttle One," Wash called toward the comm microphone. "You're clear, Inara."

"Copy that, Serenity," Inara replied from the cockpit of the shuttle. "Shuttle One detaching in five...four...three...two...."

Down in the cargo bay, Mal checked the ties on the pen while Jayne steadied the horse. Both men braced themselves as the ship wobbled from the force of the shuttle's launch.

Mal's eyes drifted toward the shuttle bay door. The ship listed slightly to starboard for a moment, until Wash compensated for the change in ballast. Mal had captained his ship long enough to feel the effect when Serenity flew with a shuttle missing. The difference was more noticeable when it was Inara's shuttle. Mal attributed that to the weight of her furniture. He did not permit himself to consider other, less objective reasons.

"What you lookin' at?" Mal heard Jayne ask.

Mal's eyes darted toward Jayne, ready to growl a reply. Then he saw that Jayne was addressing the horse.

"That's just the shuttle takin' off," Jayne continued. "The companion's off to ply her trade. Nothin' to gawk at. Heck, Barney, it ain't the first time you watched a filly on her way to make time with another fella."

Jayne turned his head toward Mal and said:

"You'd think an old teaser pony like Barney'd be used to seein' a classy lady head off to lay with a stud."

Jayne grinned at his own joke, until he noticed Mal's icy stare.

"The hay needs changing," Mal stated, turning away and walking toward the stairs. "Clean it out."

"It ain't my turn," Jayne complained.

"It is now," Mal snapped as he quickly climbed the stairs and disappeared into the hallway that lead to the bridge.

Jayne scowled at the floor inside the pen, which was covered with a thin layer of stained, fetid hay, then cried toward the bridge:

"What did I say!?"

----------------------------------

"Hi."

Kaylee dropped the wrench in her hand and gasped as she heard the voice call from the hallway. She then heaved a sigh of relief as she saw Simon standing in the doorway to the engine room.

"_Ye su_," Kaylee gasped. "You scared me."

"Sorry," Simon replied.

"What are you doing here?" Kaylee asked. "She ain't left yet."

"She's in the shuttle," Simon explained. "Mal's helping her pack her things, and he sealed the cargo bay and dining room doors, so there's no way for her to get here. Mal said it should be safe until he flies her into town."

"Still seems risky," Kaylee muttered.

"I was just going a little stir crazy down there," Simon said. "And besides, I...well, I missed you."

Kaylee's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Simon said. "I know everyone's been put out a bit with Amelia on board."

"Wasn't so bad," Kaylee mumbled. "It was a little awkward at first, but we all were fine in the end."

"Everyone?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, everyone," Kaylee said. "Even me. It was a bit strange and all, but I'm fine. The Doctor seemed okay, too. She got along with everyone alright. Told us a couple of stories about the stuff she's seen, doctorin' on the Rim."

"I can imagine," Simon said. "She's a long way from her father's estate. It's good to hear that she's adjusting well."

"Is it, now?"

"I'm actually surprised she'd come out this far," Simon continued. "I mean, she used to do a lot of charity work, but she stayed connected to the hospital. Even if she wanted to leave Osiris, I would have expected her to take a position on Tethys, or perhaps Priam. She was actually offered a residency on...."

"_Bu hao yi si_," Kaylee groaned.

"What?"

"You are...!" Kaylee cried, then forced her voice lower as she cast a cautious glance toward the closed door to the hallway. "You are unbelievable."

"What's unbelievable about me?" 

"You didn't come up here to see me. You came up here to find out about _her_."

"That's not true," Simon replied, a stupefied look on his face.

"Oh, really? You don't seem all that concerned about how I'm 'adjusting' to things."

"You said you were fine," Simon responded.

"And you believed me?" Kaylee shot back. "Ugh, you are so..._zhe me ben_!"

"Look, just because I asked about Mela, that doesn't mean I don't care about your feelings."

"Mela?" Kaylee asked. "What are you...wait, is that your pet name for her?"

"Well, yes."

"And you still call her that!?"

"I don't call her anything! We haven't been on the same planet for almost a year!"

"Aw, poor baby."

"Kaylee, if all I wanted was to check up on Mel...I mean, check up on Amelia, I would have just asked the Captain."

"Yeah, well, I wish you had."

"I didn't mean...."

"_Bi ni de zui_," Kaylee said sharply, turning her back on Simon and reaching her hand into the engine compartment. "We'll be landing in ten minutes, and I've got work to do. Just go."

Simon stood for a moment, then turned and walked to the stairwell, frustrated that he could think of no parting words that would help.

Of course, goodbyes had never been Simon's strong suit.

----------------------------

__

Osiris, 2517

"So when do you leave?" Amelia asked, staring down upon the city lights that outshone the stars in the night sky.

"Tomorrow," Simon replied, leaning against the railing that circled the hospital roof. He stared at Amelia's face, but there was no expression in her faraway gaze. 

"And then what?" she asked.

"Then to Persephone," Simon answered. "If all went well, River will be waiting for me. If not, the men who have her will either bring her to meet me on Boros, or have a messenger there to tell me the next step."

"And then?"

"Then, I guess we find somewhere that's safe."

"You're never coming back, are you?"

Simon drew a long, labored breath, then said:

"I don't see how we ever can come back. The first man who contacted me was killed. It seems unlikely that they'll just give up."

"So they're going to kill you?"

"They're not going to kill me," Simon assured her. 

"Well, they're going to find you," Amelia said, her voice rising. "Let's be honest, Simon. There's little hope that you can outrun the whole government. So they're going to find you. And when they do, you're dead."

"You don't know that."

"The hell I don't!" Amelia shouted, turning to face Simon. Her jaw trembled, and her hands were balled into fists.

"What would you have me do, Mela?" Simon asked. "Leave her?"

"Of course not!"

"Then I have to do this."

"I know!" Amelia cried.

She turned away, closed her eyes, then wiped a tear away from her cheek with the heel of her hand.

"I know," she repeated, her voice soft and steady. "I just wish you didn't have to."

"I'm sorry," Simon said.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

"Yes," Amelia sighed. "I'm sorry, too."

Simon swallowed, then said:

"I have to go."

"Simon, wait," Amelia said, turning and running into his arms. "We still have tonight. I can tell Doctor Hilbert that I'm not feeling well, and we can...."

"No," Simon whispered. "They'll know. After I'm gone they're going to be looking for me. It's important that you appear just as surprised as anyone that I left. I don't want you to be hurt by this."

"A bit late for that," Amelia sighed.

Amelia sniffed back a tear, then tilted her head and leaned toward Simon. He bowed his head, then gently kissed her.

"You have to go," Amelia whispered, releasing herself from Simon's embrace. "If you're late for your shift, it could be trouble."

Simon slowly backed away toward the stairwell door, his eyes fixed on Amelia. When he reached the door, he said:

"I love you, Mela."

A weak smile crossed Amelia's face as she replied:

"Don't call me that. And I love you, too."

Simon smiled back, then disappeared into the stairwell. Amelia stared at the door as it slowly drifted shut.

------------------------

"Let the horse stretch his legs a spell," Mal instructed Jayne, gesturing at the grassy field beyond the open ramp of the cargo bay. "I'll be back as soon as I've got the doctor flown to town in the shuttle."

"Fair enough," Jayne replied.

"Captain," Zoe called, as she approached with Wash at her side. "Shuttle's fueled and ready to go."

"I sent a wave to Atreus," Wash said. "Told them we'd be there in about twelve hours."

"That should be about right," Mal said. "Provided the Doctor doesn't take...."

"Mal!" Wash screamed, shoving the Captain aside as a man leapt up onto the loading ramp and fired a shot from his pistol. The bullet struck Wash's side as he fell to the deck. Jayne drew his gun and shot the man in the chest. Barney neighed and rose on his hind legs. Zoe drew her sidearm and ran to Wash's side.

"Take cover!" Mal shouted, as four men ran up the loading ramp and fired a hail of bullets. Jayne returned fire, backing toward a stack of packing crates. Mal crouched behind a steel barrel and drew his pistol, as Zoe dragged Wash behind the stairwell.

"Captain?" Mal heard Amelia call from the scaffolding.

"Doctor, get outta here!" Mal yelled, shooting at the approaching men to take attention away from Amelia. He heard Amelia run away, and when the footsteps stopped, he surveyed the opposition. At least six men were positioned near the ramp, all carrying rifles. Mal crouched as two of the men fired at him. 

On the other side of the cargo bay, Jayne squeezed off three rounds at Mal's attackers, then turned and shot another man, who'd been trying to creep farther up the cargo bay. His partner fired a shot at Jayne, but missed, and the bullet ricocheted off the metal horse pen.

"Watch what you're shootin' at!" one of the attackers cried.

Mal took note of the comment as he leveled his pistol and shot the man in chest. Zoe scurried to his side.

"Wash?" Mal asked.

"Don't know," Zoe said, a hint of disquiet in her usual stoic demeanor. She raised her gun and fired a volley.

"Hear that?" Mal asked. Zoe paused, and noted the sound of galloping horses approaching.

"Doubt that's the cavalry," Zoe muttered.

"Can't get to the door control," Mal grunted. "And we got more company on the way. This is a problem." 

Mal was cut off by the lurching of the ship as the engines fired. He braced himself against a barrel as Zoe dove to cover Wash. The ship shuddered as it rose in the air, tilting to port, then sharply pitching starboard.

"Think it's Kaylee?" Zoe shouted over the engine noise.

"One problem at a time!" Mal yelled back. "Jayne! Move!"

Mal and Jayne both emerged from their positions and fired, balancing themselves as well as possible as the ship rocked violently . Jayne was thrown to the deck as he fired a shot that caught one man in the stomach. 

The ship then pitched forward, sending two of the men flying out of the cargo bay. Mal tumbled down the deck, but managed to grab a post on the horse pen with his left hand. His right hand still held his pistol, and he fired a series of shots at the last of the invaders, who had wrapped his arms around the hatch control panel. The shots caused the man to panic and release his grip, and he toppled backwards down the loading ramp and out of the ship.

Mal released his grip on the post, and crawled toward the control panel with his body flat on the deck. When he reached the panel he reached up, and his probing fingers reached the hatch button. The ramp slowly lifted, then closed.

"Everybody stay put!" Mal shouted, lifting himself to his feet and stumbling toward the stairs. On the way, he noticed Barney, who despite the swerving motions of the ship, had managed to stay afoot. 'Never thought I'd envy a second set of legs,' Mal thought, as he reached the stairway and climbed up to the catwalk.

With great effort, Mal managed to negotiate the hallway and make his way to the bridge. When he arrived, he saw Amelia wrestling with the ship's controls.

"Somebody take this!" Amelia cried.

"How'd you get us airborne?" Mal asked, as he took the seat from Amelia and adjusted the stabilizer settings.

"My father's in shipping," Amelia explained. "We had dozens of freighters in our fleet. I grew up watching men fly ships. I guess it's not as easy as it looks."

"May not have been the smoothest saving of our necks," Mal replied. "But it did the job. Hang on."

Mal punched the afterburners and guided Serenity out of the atmosphere. He them engaged the autopilot and allowed the ship to settle into an orbit before turning to Amelia and saying:

"Speaking of saving, I got a job for you."

Before Amelia could react, Mal grabbed her hand and lead her down to the cargo bay.

"Got a patient, Doctor," Mal said, leading Amelia down the stairs and over to Wash, who was laying on the deck with Zoe crouched at his side. Jayne stood by, his eyes scanning the deck, still tense from the firefight. Kaylee had come down from the engine room, and stood silently a few steps back.

Amelia surveyed the wound quickly, then pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and applied direct pressure to the wound.

"I need my medical kit," Amelia said. "I have to stop the bleeding before we move him."

"I'll get it," Mal replied. "Jayne, follow me."

Jayne trailed behind Mal as he ran up the stairs toward the shuttle. When they reached the entrance, Mal said:

"I'll get the lady's bag. You get below. Tell Simon to come running if I call him, but that he's to stay put if I don't."

"On it," Jayne said, running down the catwalk as Mal entered the shuttle.


	5. Part IV

**__**

Part IV

Inara tied the belt around her robe, mentally preparing for the awkward moment she knew was approaching. On the other side of the shuttle, Hiram Crenshaw fastened the buckle of his boot, then stood.

"Mr. Crenshaw," Inara said. "I wish to apologize for my...mistake."

"Please," Crenshaw replied, pulling on his leather work gloves. "The less said the better."

"There will of course be no charge," Inara said.

Crenshaw reached into the front pocket of his pants, and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled off two bills and dropped them on the table.

"Half," he said, shoving the rest of his money back into his pocket. "That seems fair, all things considered."

"Before you leave," Inara said, "Guild rules require that I inform you of your rights. You may report any Companion who, in your opinion, has failed to provide a good faith performance of her duties. I can provide you with the appropriate contacts. If you choose to pursue a report, your complaints will be reviewed by a board of no less than three...."

"Please," Crenshaw interrupted. "I don't want to report anything. As I said, the less said the better."

"Very well," Inara said.

"Good day, Inara," Crenshaw mumbled, turning and quickly exiting the shuttle door. Inara waited until she heard the sound of his horse's hoofs gallop away.

Inara walked to the couch, sat down, and dropped her head into her hands. It had been foolish. A rookie mistake. Fortunately, it appeared that no one would hear of it. If word found its way back to the Guild, her career would for all intents and purposes be over.

Inara grabbed the two bills from the table. Half of her wage. For half a day's work. The only work she'd had in weeks, and it was half pay for a half day. She would have insisted on accepting no money, but practical concerns overcame pride. A month's rent on the shuttle would be due soon, and money had become scarce. 

For a moment, Inara thought that Mal ought to reduce the rent, since this latest impediment to her income was in part his fault. She then corrected herself. It was entirely her fault. Her profession required constant concentration. It did not matter that the client was below her usual standard. It did not matter that he had possessed more stamina than she had suspected. She was a Companion. Her responsibilities were not subject to extenuating circumstances.

Besides, even if she could permit herself to blame Mal, what could she say? 

__

'Mal, you cost me money, because while I was in bed with a client...I cried your name.'

Inara wadded the money in her clenched fist then hurled it across the shuttle.

----------------------

Simon leaned against the wall of the room as Jayne stood at the door, his arms folded across his chest. River sat on the bed, turning a pocket watch absently in her hands.

Simon clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to pace. Through the walls of the room, he could hear the clang of instruments dropping on the metal tray.

"Extractor," he heard Amelia's voice say. "No, the small one. Hurry!"

Simon drew a slow, even breath. From what he'd heard, it sounded as though the shot had not damaged any of Wash's vital organs. Still, the bullet would need to be removed. As an ER physician, Amelia was trained to perform such surgeries in an emergency.

Of course, Simon doubted that the fugitive status of a board certified surgeon would meet the medical guild's definition of an 'emergency.'

"Dammit!" Simon heard Amelia exclaim. 

Simon's eyes darted up, and he bolted toward the door. Jayne blocked his way, glaring into Simon's eyes and shaking his head from side to side.

"Doctor Brakestone," Simon heard Mal say. "I need to know whether you can handle this."

"It's nothing," Amelia replied. "The bullet slipped the first time, but this time, I think...yes!"

A moment later Simon heard the slug clang as it dropped into the steel surgical pan.

"I got it," Amelia said. "He should be fine. I'm closing."

Simon let out a sigh of relief.

-----------------------------

"Serenity, this is Shuttle One," Inara called into the radio. "Please respond."

"Go ahead, Inara," Mal radioed back.

"Mal, what's happening?" Inara asked. "I tried to send a wave to tell you I was finished, but the comm indicated that you're still in radio range."

"We're in orbit," Mal replied. "We had a little problem."

"Is everything alright?"

"There was a gunfight," Mal said. "Wash took a round in the belly."

"What!?"

"He's fine," Mal assured her. "Doctor Brakestone fixed him up. She's staying on until we get to Atreus, just to keep an eye on him, then we'll fly her back."

"Why not just drop her off? Then Simon can take over."

"Unfortunately, I can't tell her that. She insisted that he needed to be watched for twenty-four hours, and I couldn't think of a reason not to take her up on the offer."

"Well, as long as Wash is taken care of, that's what's important."

"Can't argue," Mal said. "In any event, we've been in orbit for the past six hours while she patched him up, so we'll be a little behind schedule on the way back. If your client's inclined to part with another month's profit...."

"No," Inara interrupted. "I mean, I'll meet you in orbit. My client...had an emergency."

"Do you have enough fuel to brake atmo?"

"Barely," Inara replied. "But the air jets will be enough to get me docked once I get close."

"Good enough," Mal said. "I'm transmitting our flight path to your shuttle...now."

"Got it," Inara replied. "I'll be there in an hour."

---------------------

"This land is...strange," Wash slurred, as he bounced the plastic brontosaurus on his stomach. "The ground is...soft, yet surprisingly well-shaped, and, dare I say, virile."

Wash tilted the stegosaurus he held in his other hand, then said in a deep, gravelly voice:

"I say we conquer it! And we shall call it the Land of the Virile, Fleshy...Land...Area!"

"He'll be fine," Amelia told Zoe, clearing the surgical tools from the tray. "The pain medication must be making him loopy."

"Not much," Zoe said, resting a hand on Wash's shoulder, and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"The egg-laying ones mock our plans," Wash grumbled in his stegosaurus voice. "But it is we who shall laugh in the end! In fact, I shall laugh now! Ha! Ha-ha!"

"Inara just docked," Mal announced, entering the infirmary. "I've got a course set to Atreus. We should be there in about twelve hours. After we drop off the horse, we can be back here tomorrow."

"Good," Amelia replied. "Captain, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get some rest. I didn't sleep well last night, and after four hours of surgery, I'm a little fatigued."

"Rest up, Doctor," Mal said. "We'll holler if we need you. Use Inara's shuttle."

As Amelia turned to leave, Zoe called:

"Doctor, thank you."

"Yes," Wash growled, extending the stegosaurus toward Amelia. "Thank you for saving this pudgy land mass we call Home!"

Amelia smiled, as Wash looked up and mouthed 'thank you.' She then turned and walked out.

Mal peered outside, and once he was satisfied that Amelia was out of earshot, he said:

"Zoe, give the doctor a half hour to get to sleep, then seal the shuttle bay doors."

"Why, sir?" Zoe asked. "Simon knows to stay hidden."

"That's the thing," Mal said. "He can't stay hidden. I need him to check out that horse."

"The horse?" Zoe replied. 

"Right after Wash got shot, one of our visitors got all riled up on account of a bullet that got a little too close to Barney. They were after him specifically."

"We weren't even supposed to bring him here," Wash said, struggling to keep his speech coherent. "How'd they know we'd have him?"

"A good question," Mal said. "An even better question would be why he was worth all the trouble. We got a good piece of coin on the line, but a teaser pony ain't worth trailing us all the way here, then putting together six hands for shooting work, plus who knows how many men riding in for the second wave. That kind of time and bloodshed ain't worth the deal we have on the table."

"I'll tell Simon, Sir," Zoe said. "Keep an eye on my husband?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Mal replied.

Zoe turned and exited the infirmary.

Mal walked over to the stool by the operating table and took a seat. He glanced at Wash, and Wash flashed a glassy-eyed smile. Mal pursed his lips, and his eyes wandered around the room. After a moment, Wash reached out his hand and said:

"Alright, you can be the stegosaurus. But I don't want there to be any deception or underhanded endeavors!"

Mal took the plastic dinosaur from Wash, turned it absently in his hands, and muttered:

"There'd be a welcome change."

------------------------------

"Hold him steady," Simon instructed Jayne, as Mal, Zoe and Book watched from just outside the steel pen.

"I got 'em," Jayne replied, holding the horse's head in both hands. Barney brayed, and Simon cast a cautious eye up at the airlock to Inara's shuttle.

"No need to worry, Doctor," Mal said. "That door keeps the air in, it'll keep the sound in, too. Just focus on the horse."

"I don't see anything out of the ordinary," Simon replied, running his hands along the horse's coat. "The scars on his face are old, and too jagged to be a surgical incision. In any event, they're too close to bone to provide access to a concealable cavity."

"Could be somewhere else," Zoe proposed.

"They'd have to shave him," Simon said. "Of course, it's possible that something was done to him quite awhile ago."

"Maybe it's more of that gut smuggling," Jayne suggested.

"There's not much of a market for horse organs," Simon answered. "And very little of value that one could keep in a live animal's body that wouldn't cause an immediate rejection by the immune system."

"There's gotta be something," Zoe said.

"I'll check for an elevated white cell count," Simon said, grabbing a hypodermic from the medical kit on the deck. "But, again, if there was anything in the horse, he should have reacted to it by now."

"All the more reason to be concerned," Book said.

In unison, Mal, Zoe and Jayne shot curious glances at the Shepherd.

"Clumsy smugglers leave tell-tale signs," Book continued, as Simon drew blood from the horse. "When everything appears ordinary, that's when you're dealing with someone who knows what they're doing."

"Yeah," Jayne grumbled. "It's folks that got more smarts than they oughta that you got to watch out for. Right, 'Shepherd'?"

"A fair summation," Book replied dryly.

"Let's see what we have," Simon said, kneeling on the deck and placing a drop of the horse's blood on the scanning dish of his portable microscope.

"Well?" Mal asked, as Simon peered into the small screen.

"The cell count is well within normal limits," Simon said. "It's hard to tell...wait a minute."

"What is it?" Mal asked.

"Well, it could just be a dirty lens," Simon answered. "But it looks remarkably similar to...I think I have dithymidine in my kit."

Simon turned and rummaged through his bag.

"Die-whatsis?" Mal asked.

"It's an enzyme," Simon said, grabbing a vial from his bag, twisting off the cap, and drawing a small dose into the hypodermic that contained Barney's blood.

"Got a theory?" Zoe asked.

"Perhaps," Simon said, tapping a finger against the needle, then depositing a drop of the treated blood into a second compartment on the microscope.

"There's a reaction," Simon continued. "Let's see what kind."

Simon took a small bottle of clear liquid from his bag, unscrewed the cap, and injected a stream of Barney's blood into the fluid.

"It's not the most reliable test in the 'verse," Simon said. "But most simple chemicals have a reaction to the reagent that gives you some idea of what you're dealing with."

"It's doing something," Zoe noted. "Look."

The clear fluid had taken on a hazy tint, which grew darker from moment to moment.

"I'd say in about ten minutes this will be completely black," Simon said, squinting at the bottle.

"So, what does that mean?" Mal asked.

"Well," Simon replied. "Either someone has gone to great lengths to smuggle a large volume of topical ointment, or this horse is full of trimethyline."

"Trimeth?" Mal interjected.

"Drops," Zoe muttered.

"Quite potent," Book added.

"And highly addictive," Simon said.

"Wait a minute," Jayne said. "If Barney here is full of drops, how come he ain't all crazy like?"

"The narcotic has been treated with a chemical bonding agent," Simon said. "It's difficult to explain. Jayne, do you remember when you caught a cold on Clymene, and I gave you those capsules?"

"The ones with the little colored sprinkles?" Jayne asked.

"Exactly," Simon said. "Those 'sprinkles' have medicine inside of them. The colored coatings dissolve at different rates, gradually releasing the drug during the day, so you only have to take one capsule every twelve hours. That works fine, for medicine that can be taken orally. On the other hand, if a drug has to be injected, it's absorbed into the system almost immediately. That can be a problem if the effects wear off quickly. A research group at the hospital on Osiris was experimenting with a chemical bonding agent at the molecular level. They had considerable success. There were diabetics in the test group who were able to go days without insulin."

"What does that have to do with our horse?" Zoe asked.

"We took urine samples from the patients in the study," Simon said. "We had to balance the chemicals to keep the bond from being too strong. Otherwise, it would pass through the patient's system with no effect at all. In theory, one could deliberately treat a drug with a bonding agent so that the drug would never enter the blood. It would pass through the renal system, and if properly filtered, one could easily get at least a quart of concentrated trimeth from the urine."

"A quart of pure trimeth," Book said. "Diluted with saline, the street value would be at least fifty thousand credits."

"Hang on," Jayne said. "Are you sayin' that Barney here...he pisses money?"

"He pisses drops, Jayne," Zoe growled. "That ain't what we signed up for. You start dealing in drops, you're dealing with people who make Niska look like a kitten. All other kinds of work dry up if you start down that path. Not to mention the Alliance trouble. One whiff of dope, and the Feds go from buzzing 'round our ears to crawling up our _pi gu_."

"She's right," Mal said. "Even if I were inclined to taste bile in my mouth every time I saw some _you yao yin zhe_ starin' at me from a gutter, I got no mind to take on that kind of trouble."

"And Marsh knows that," Zoe observed.

"I suppose we were a test run," Mal said. "If you can smuggle the goods right under the nose of the smuggler, you got a good system. No wonder he made the deal too sweet to pass on."

"Wait," Jayne said. "A thought just came to me."

"Here we go," Zoe sighed.

"Just hear me out," Jayne growled. "Now, the doctor here knows all about this pissing horse thing on account of that hospital he worked at. His lady doctor friend, she worked at that same hospital. Now here she is on our ship. How 'bout that?"

Zoe blinked.

"Sir," Zoe said. "Never remind me I said this, but that actually makes sense."

"See there," Jayne said, smiling. "Maybe you should listen to me more often."

"Wait a minute," Simon said, rising to his feet. "There's no possibility whatsoever that Mela would ever be involved in smuggling narcotics!"

"Just 'cause you're sweet on her don't make her sweet," Jayne shot back. "Fifty thousand makes all kinds do all sorts."

"She wasn't involved," Book said.

"Now, Preacher," Jayne said. "You may've made a few good guesses in the past, but that don't mean you're...."

"He's right," Mal said.

"Huh?" Jayne grunted.

"There's no way that adds up," Mal continued. "If she's in on it, either she's here to make sure we get to Atreus, or to make sure we don't. If she wanted us on Atreus, she'd have booked passage straight there. If not, then she would never have taken us off the ground when the shooting started. Nah, Marsh is the man behind all this."

"So what do we do, Sir?" Zoe asked. 

"We head to Atreus, on schedule," Mal replied. "I've got thirty platinum into this horse, and I aim to get it back, plus what we're owed. I ain't gonna let Johnny Marsh spread the word that Malcolm Reynolds is any man's fool."

"They'll be ready," Zoe warned. "Probably with more men than they had on Iocasta."

Mal did not answer.

"If we're finished here," Simon mumbled, gathering his equipment, "I have a bunk to hide out in."

Simon handed his case to Mal, hopped the fence, then took his case and stormed back to the medical bay.

"What's he all cantankerous about?" Jayne asked.

"Well, you did accuse his fiance of being a drug smuggler," Zoe replied.

"That ain't it," Mal said.

"Then, what, Sir?" Zoe asked.

"We all thought she might be in on it," Mal said. "But we were sure she wasn't before he was."

--------------------------

Simon slid the door of the bedroom closed, then walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. River reclined against the pillow at the other end, still rummaging through the box of junk.

"Mr. Granger's watch has stopped," River observed, dangling the timepiece from its silver chain. "The hours and minutes and seconds expire without the creeping ticks and tocks. He wound the stem and stretched the springs, but the tension released itself, and now the days are not his."

"That could be a problem," Simon mumbled.

"Not really," River replied. "He's dead."

"Oh, so all that about time, it was...."

"Melancholy symbolism," River stated. "I thought it was obvious."

"Sorry," Simon sighed. "I'm a little off this evening."

"You're sad."

"Sad," Simon repeated. "I suppose that's in there somewhere."

"Ticks and tocks," River said, dropping the watch into the box. "So many pass so quickly. But it's not relevant. All is as it was. She is who she was. You are who you've always been. It's not about counting. It's about knowing. And knowing what to look for."

River reached into the box and pulled out the silver mirror. She held it up to Simon so that he could see his reflection in the glass.

"Same face," River said. "Same eyes. Same mouth. Don't look for the changes. So much is the same."

Simon's eyes gazed at the small hand mirror. He reached out and gently took the silver disc from River's grasp, then absently took the mirror and turned it in his hands.

"You have a feeling," River said. "Whispers tell you secrets."

Simon closed his eyes, drew a breath, then said:  


"Get some sleep. I have to talk to the Captain."

------------------------

"You sure this is what you want, Doctor?" Mal asked Simon, as they stood in the cargo hold. Jayne, Book, and Inara stood by the makeshift corral, and Kaylee held Barney's reins tightly, as she drew slow, deliberate breaths.

"I'm sure," Simon replied softly.

"Once done, there's no undoing," Mal said.

"It's your ship, Captain," Simon said. "Say the word, and I'll go back to my room. But if you're giving me the choice, I've made it."

Mal drew a breath, then walked to the intercom. His voice boomed throughout the ship as he announced:

"Doctor Brakestone, we need you in the cargo bay."

The horse recoiled, alarmed by the echo. Kaylee rested a hand on his mane, stroking him gently until he became still.

After a moment, Amelia emerged and ran down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" She gasped. "Has Wash...?"

Amelia stopped as she saw Simon standing at the base of the stairway. Her eyes met his, and she slowly continued her descent.

"Mela," Simon said. "I know this must be a shock."

"Simon," Mela replied, her face blank. "How did you get here?"

"I've been here all along," Simon answered. "I'm, well, I suppose I'm the manure."

"You're...you're alive," Amelia sighed as she reached the deck.

"Well, if you call this living," Simon replied. "I found River. I've been trying to...that is, she's suffering from...well, that's a long story. The point is, we're still on the run. We've been on this ship since I left. No one can know where we are, which is why we usually stay hidden. I'd planned to stay below until we reached Iocasta, but...I know I don't have any right to ask anything of you, and it's probably selfish of me to put you in danger by...."

"Simon, shut up," Mela exclaimed, as she ran to Simon, wrapped both arms around him and kissed him.

Simon gently rested his hands on her shoulders, then pulled her close and returned her kiss.

Neither noticed as Kaylee dropped the horse's reins and scurried away.


	6. Part V

**__**

Part V

"Wash, we're getting close," Mal said into microphone of his earwig, as he, Zoe and Jane approached the fence that enclosed a log cabin. 

"You're coming through clear," Wash replied from Serenity's cockpit. He leaned forward toward the speaker on the control panel, wincing from the pain that shot through his side. Inara stood behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm alright," Wash said, raising an open hand. "Kaylee, how's the calibration on the sensor?"

"Perfect," Kaylee said, adjusting a small dial on the instrument panel overhead.

"Did you send the wave to Marsh's men?" Mal asked.

"Yep," Wash answered. "I told them you were on the way. There was a spike in the relay signal when they established the transmission link, the same one I picked up when we signaled them from orbit. Judging by the feedback, I'd say they've got receptor dish set to pick up any chatter on the Cortex inside the planet's gravity pull. Farther, maybe."

"That makes sense, Sir," Zoe said, gesturing toward a metal disc on the top of the cabin's roof.

"So far it's what we'd expected," Mal said.

"Yeah," Jayne grumbled, checking Vera's chambering mechanism. "We're right on top of everything, except for that part where we've been suckered from the beginning."

"Wash, keep the engine hot," Mal said, looking back toward Serenity as she rested in the clearing a mile back. "We may need a quick exit. Is everyone stowed away?"

"River's in her room," Wash responded. "And Simon and Doctor Brakestone are down in the Med Bay catching up on lost time."

Kaylee's eyes fell.  


"Talking," Wash quickly added. "They're just talking."

"No time to worry on them now," Mal said. "Stay sharp."

Mal pushed open the gate, and began walking toward the front of the cabin. Zoe and Jayne followed close behind. They paused about fifty yards back, and Mal stopped and surveyed the layout. There were no trees or structures, other than the cabin itself, that could provide cover, but the front wall had two small windows, so they could expect snipers to be hiding inside. A raised porch encircled the cabin, but the narrow rail would only provide minimal cover. Two horses were tied to one of the posts to the far left of the cabin, despite the hitching post right in front of the porch. Someone had taken the time to remove them from the line of fire, which meant that the same someone had expected a firefight to occur.

"What took you so long?" Marsh bellowed as he emerged from the front doorway. Two men followed, each carrying a shotgun.

"Had to make a stop," Mal shouted back. "There were a few shots traded, but here I am. What are you doing here?"  


"Funny thing," Marsh said. "The minute you left, I started feeling lonesome for ol' Barney. We've been through a lot together. Thought I might buy him back."

"He's worth more than thirty," Mal replied.

"Oh, don't worry," Marsh said. "I've got your money. Three hundred platinum, hard cash."

"Word is that Barney's worth a bit more," Mal growled. "What I hear is that Barney's worth an even fifty thousand. Course, that also means he's worth twenty years in an Alliance penal camp. Any way you count, that's a bit more than we bargained for."

Marsh smirked, then said:

"Well, I'll be damned. You are one clever sonuvabitch. What tipped you off?"

"That's a tale I'll save for my grandkids," Mal replied. "For now, let's just focus on the problem at hand."

"I intend to," Marsh said. He raised a finger to the radio bud in his ear, and whispered an instruction into the microphone. A second later, a man leaned out of one of the windows, pointing a rifle at Mal. In an instant, another gunman emerged from the second window, then a third man turned from the right corner of the building, cocking the hammer of a revolver.

Jayne and Zoe raised their guns in response, but Mal held up a hand and yelled to Marsh:

"There's no need for violence. I've got a deal worked out, and I think it'll suit both of us just fine."

Marsh scowled. "I got three men inside for each one showin', so if you got a proposal, I'd suggest you make it quick."

"Way I figure," Mal said, "you sold me a horse. He's mine, and he'll stay mine. You told me I had three hundred comin' my way. You hand over the money, I'll take Barney where he won't be trouble to me and mine, and we'll call it even."

Marsh stared at Mal for a moment, then smiled.

"You're something, Mal," Marsh said. "You're a real piece of work. It's downright entertaining, the things that come out your mouth. Now, I wasn't sure you'd show. If you'd caught on to my plan, I figured you'd just take off and sell the horse to someone else. If you showed here, I thought it meant you were still in the dark, or you wanted a bigger piece of the action. I was ready to consider giving you a piece. Hell, there's plenty of coin to go 'round. But showin' up here, makin' demands you know ain't in the cards, well that's just a hoot an' a half."

"It's like you said when we made the deal," Mal replied. "You owe me. Ma put you up back on Shadow. I got you that gun runnin' deal during the war. Funny thing about those rifles you sold us, how the broadside your ship took from that Alliance scout knocked the coolant seals out of whack. Just the kind of defect you don't notice. That is, until you're in combat and half your unit's belly shot, tryin' to return fire with a gun that's all jammed up. Funny how those things happen."

"Maybe not so funny," Marsh said, pulling his pistol from its holster. "Maybe it's just one of those things that happens when a man gets in a practical way. It was a nice little deal you set up for me with your Browncoat friends, but the money the Alliance paid me to gum up the works, well, that was just too good to pass on."

"A lot of them with those guns were my friends," Mal growled. "One of 'em was me. This is the second time you put me in harm's way, Marsh."

"Who knew you'd survive the first?" Marsh shot back, slowly raising his pistol and pointing it at Mal. "Hell, I'd have done you a favor. Here you are, all ready for a showdown, puttin' you and your crew into a fight that any man with sense would know he can't win, all on account of some fool sense of honor and justice and all that crap. You're one of a kind, Mal. No matter how many times you get your tail kicked, you just never change."

"Maybe," Mal muttered.

Marsh pulled back the hammer of his pistol, but as he aimed, a crash sounded from behind the cabin. Marsh and his henchmen glanced backward, wondering if Mal had set up an ambush, but then Marsh put a finger to his earwig and shouted:

"What the...? What? How do you...? Dammit!"

In the clearing behind the cabin, Mal could see men scattering in every direction toward the woods.

One of the snipers at the window exclaimed:

"The Feds are comin'! There's a cruiser in orbit! They've launched transports!"

He then retreated into the cabin and ran for the backdoor. The sniper at the other window was already gone. The man crouching at the corner of the cabin stared at Zoe and Jayne, waiting to see if they intended to shoot. When no shots came, he each turned and ran for the woods.

Marsh and the two men at his sides stood ready. They knew that any attempt to get back into the cabin would leave them vulnerable to a shot in the back from Mal and his crew. Marsh yelled:

"Mal, you bastard! You of all people, runnin' to the Feds!"

"What can I say?" Mal replied. "It's just one of those things that happens when a man gets in a practical way."

Mal watched Marsh closely, waiting for Marsh to make his move, and hoping it would come long after Marsh's men were a long way off.

------------------------

"Cruiser Vespucci," Book said, his head tilted toward the comm unit on the shuttle's control panel. "This is Foxtrot One. We are holding orbit, awaiting Foxtrot Two and Three. Repeat, we are holding orbit above the target area. We estimate deployment time at three minutes after initial descent into the atmosphere. Repeat, estimated time to deployment is three minutes after initial descent. Foxtrot Two and Three will be in formation within four minutes. Radio silence will be maintained until descent."

Book switched off the comm unit, then checked Shuttle Two's trajectory. While communications monitors were inexpensive, it was unlikely that a den of smugglers would have long range scanners that could detect an orbiting ship. However, in the interest of maintaining the charade as completely as possible, he dropped the shuttle's orbit two hundred kilometers, then engaged the autopilot.

Book checked the chronometer on the control panel. He would transmit the next false message in three minutes. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his Bible, and thumbed the well-worn pages to the Beatitudes. 

-----------------------

Amelia entered Inara's shuttle, glanced over her shoulder, then pulled the hatch shut. She walked quickly over to Inara's communications station and turned on the power. When the menu appeared on the screen, she selected 'WAVE TRANSMIT-CORTEX,' typed 'Alliance Cruiser Zheng He,' in the search field, then waited for the Cortex to engage. After a moment passed without a connection, she checked the signal gauge. The needle indicating interference was pegged beyond the 'HIGH' mark.

"Piece of crap ship," Amelia muttered, turning and grabbing a small shoulder bag. She reached into the bag and pulled out a hand transmitter. She slid the power switch and waited for the screen to illuminate. Then the hatch suddenly opened. She tossed the transmitter toward the pillows on Inara's couch, then turned to face the door.

"Anything wrong?" Simon asked, stepping into the shuttle.

"Simon, you scared me," Amelia gasped.

"Sorry," Simon said. "I didn't think I'd be intruding. I thought you were checking on Wash?"

"I was," Amelia replied. "I just needed my medical kit."

Simon glanced at the bag in Amelia's hand.

"A bit small, isn't it?" Simon observed.

"Oh, not this," Amelia said. "This is personal. I wanted to freshen up a bit."

Amelia smiled, then added:

"As you may recall, you did smear my lipstick a bit."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Simon responded. "Appearances don't mean much out here."

Simon walked over to Amelia, and as he stood above her, he turned his head and stared at the control panel.

"Sending a wave?" Simon asked.

"Oh, yes," Amelia said. "I was just letting the clinic know that I'd been delayed."

"You haven't been delayed," Simon said. "You're still early. In any event, the Captain told Wash to block any outgoing transmissions until he returned."

"Goodness," Amelia said. "Your Captain certainly is careful when he's doing business."

"Actually," Simon replied, "he's most careful when a passenger can't be trusted."

Amelia's lower lip trembled slightly, then she quickly responded:

"Simon, you can't possibly mean...?"

"The shuttle's communications are linked to the bridge," Simon interjected. "We know what you were doing."

Amelia pursed her lips. "I suppose you've known longer than that."

"Suspected is a better word," Simon said. "I'd hoped I was wrong."

"Always the idealist," Amelia said, pulling a small pistol from her bag and pointing it at Simon. "Get to the controls. We're leaving."

"You came well equipped," Simon observed.

"Every girl's got one purse that has everything," Amelia answered. "Move!"

"Don't be a fool," Simon said, his eyes staring past the gun in Amelia's hand and into her eyes. "There's nowhere for you to go."

With her gun trained on Simon with her right hand, Amelia reached into her bag with her left hand and pulled a small black box out of her bag. She slid open a panel on the box and pressed a button inside. The lights outside the shuttle flickered, then went dim.

Simon reflexively looked toward the hatch door. In his moment of distraction, Amelia swung her leg and kicked Simon's thigh. His leg collapsed in pain, and Simon fell to the floor.

"Funny about a gunshot wound," Amelia said, pulling a pair of metal handcuffs from her bag and slapping one of the metal rings around Simon's ankle. "The damage to the muscle will heal rather quickly, but any trauma to the affected region can tear the scar tissue rather easily."

Simon struggled to regain his focus as Amelia fastened the other cuff to the leg of Inara's bed.

"You probably should have worn a brace while you were recovering," Amelia said, walking quickly past Simon as he made a feeble attempt to grab her.

"Of course, you know what they say," Amelia continued, sitting behind the shuttle's controls and starting the ignition sequence. "Doctors make the worst patients."

-----------------------

Both Mal and Jayne turned as the shuttle detached from Serenity. Mal squinted, trying to determine the shuttle's path. Nothing about his plan to deal with Marsh involved launching a shuttle.

Fortunately, Zoe stayed focused on Marsh, and leapt at Mal, pushing him to the ground as Marsh fired his pistol. Jayne spun around and fired a volley of shots at the cabin. Marsh and his companions crouched behind the meager cover offered by the porch rails, and returned fire.

"Thanks," Mal muttered, rolling from beneath Zoe.

"Glad to, Sir," Zoe replied, rising to one knee and firing at their attackers.

Mal reached for his pistol as he surveyed the area. None of Marsh's other men seemed to be returning to the fight. That left Marsh and his two hired guns. Even odds.

Mal aimed his pistol, jerked his hand back as a shot ricochetted on the ground in front of him, then fired three shots. While none of the rounds connected, they did provide enough cover for Jayne to take a careful shot and drop one of Marsh's thugs. The other, knowing that the tide had turned, crawled into the cabin and scurried toward the back door.

Only Marsh remained. He knelt on the porch, using one of the narrow posts of the railing for cover.

Mal slowly rose to his feet, his pistol trained on Marsh. Zoe stood up, her rifle at her shoulder. Mal glanced quickly to his left at Jayne, who held Vera at his hip. Mal then began a slow, deliberate walk toward Marsh.

-----------------------

"Where are you taking me?" Simon asked, struggling in vain to free himself from the shackle around his ankle.

"Out of range of your friends' jamming signal," Amelia replied, her eyes set ahead as she piloted the shuttle.

"Mela, please," Simon said. "I don't know why you're doing this...."

"Of course you don't," Amelia snarled, adjusting the shuttle's accelerators. "You'd have to have something resembling sense to understand."

"You're a doctor! You're supposed to help people! What you're doing is murder!"

"What I'm doing is surviving!" Amelia screamed. "If you think for one minute that I wasted the better part of a year on godforsaken moons by choice, then you're as blind and pigheaded as you were when...!"

Amelia gasped as the shuttle lurched forward. She grasped the control yoke in both hands, using all her strength to pull the shuttle out of its descent.

"What are you doing?" Simon gasped.

"I'm not doing anything!" Amelia growled, her eyes darting across the controls to find a reason for the shuttle's malfunction. "I can't keep...."

Amelia scowled at a gauge on the control panel.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Amelia cried, frantically adjusting dials.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked.

"My luck and your crew," Amelia sighed. "Hang on."  


Before Simon could argue the absurity of asking him to 'hang on' while he was cuffed to the furniture, he slid down the floor, his arms flailing helplessly as the shuttle went into a steep dive.

-----------------------

Marsh crouched behind a post on the porch. He heard the footsteps of Mal and his crew crunching on the gravelly path as they slowly approached. He was alone, outgunned, and knew that he could expect no mercy. He gulped down a breath of air, then rose, firing quickly as he backed toward the door.

At first, it seemed to Marsh that time had stopped, and the world was a photograph, a captured moment in time. Then, he realized that only he had stopped. His legs ignored his will to move. He glanced down at his shirt, and saw the blood seeping into the fabric. He looked up, and saw Mal's pistol aimed steadily at his body. No shot came. None was necessary. Marsh silently wondered if this proved the myth about never hearing the shot that got you, or if his own gunfire had drowned out the noise. The irrelevance of the question only occurred to him as he fell against the cabin wall and slid to the ground.

Marsh looked up, and saw Mal standing above him. He noticed that Mal held his pistol casually at his side, then realized that his own gun had dropped from his hand and lay far from reach.

Marsh licked his lips, reflexively trying to dilute the salty taste of blood that stung his throat.

"Mal," Marsh gasped. "I...I gotta know. Did you really call the Feds?"

"No," Mal admitted.

"Figures," Marsh sighed. "Course you didn't. That...woulda been smart."

Marsh smiled weakly before his throat clenched, and his head slumped to his chest.

"_Zhou ma_," he heard Mal curse. "I can't even kill a man without gettin' insulted."

Marsh heard nothing after that.

------------------------

"Wash!" Mal shouted, walking up the loading ramp. "Why the Hell did we launch the gorram shuttle?"

"We didn't," Kaylee replied, running down the stairway with Inara following close behind.

"Well, who did?" Mal asked.

"It was Doctor Brakestone," Inara explained. "She took off with Simon after Wash caught her trying to get on the Cortex. She must have forced Simon to go with her."

"I guess Simon's plan to bird dog her must've worked," Kaylee added. 

"Yeah," Mal said. "And of course it worked at exactly the wrong time. Did she get out a signal?"

"Nope," Kaylee said. "Wash jammed all frequencies the minute she tried."

"Well, let's get after her," Mal said. "We'll pick up Zoe and Jayne after we catch up to Doctor Brakestone. If she gets out of range of our jamming signal...."

"That's the problem," Kaylee interrupted. "We're stuck."

"What!?" Mal exclaimed.

"Just before she took off," Kaylee said. "She sent out a pulse, fried the control circuits. She must've set a few surge charges while she was on board. I can bypass them, but it'll take time."

"Time we don't have," Mal said. "She won't have to go far to get a clear channel, with us on the ground."

"That's the thing," Kaylee said. "She's on the ground, too."

"She landed?"

"Not by choice," Kaylee said.

"I flew in on fumes when I returned to Serenity," Inara explained. "Wash tracked the shuttle as it took a hard dive about twenty miles from here."

"We didn't understand it until we checked the maint readings," Kaylee added. "With all that was going on, nobody thought to refuel the shuttle. I'm surprised she got as far as she did."

"Our plans collapse, our oversights save our skins," Mal groaned. 

"It looks like they're on foot," Inara said. "Doctor Brakestone must have a hand comm unit. She's been sending out regular signals, trying to contact the Alliance. She won't have to go much farther before she'll be able to connect."

"I'll go after them," Mal said. "I'll take the mule."

"It don't work," Kaylee said. "She had a charge on that, too."

"This girl's good," Mal muttered. "Think she's for hire?"

"Mal, if she gets off a signal...." Inara said.

"We're all humped," Mal finished. "What about Shepherd Book? If he breaks orbit, he could catch 'em."

"We got no way to ask," Kaylee replied. "Wash lets down the interference long enough to signal him, that leaves the channels open to the Feds."

Mal clenched his teeth, weighing options. He then reached forward, grabbed the silk sash that Inara wore as a belt, and yanked it from her waist.

"Mal!" Inara gasped. "What are you doing?"

"Makin' do," Mal replied, quickly tying a series of knots in the sash.

------------------------------

"Keep moving," Amelia ordered, pointing the gun at Simon with one hand, and glancing down at her comm unit in the other.

"Sorry if I'm slowing you down," Simon said, limping ahead of her. "You should have thought about that before you kicked me."

"I had to improvise," Amelia said.

"I'm surprised you didn't just leave me behind," Simon muttered.

"I couldn't risk you'd use the shuttle to jam my signal," Amelia replied.

"Not much of a risk if you'd just killed me," Simon said.

"They prefer you alive," Amelia explained.

"How nice to be wanted," Simon sighed.

"Just keep walking," Amelia instructed.

Simon took a few more steps, then turned and asked:

"How long?"

"Simon, don't start," Amelia warned.

"Before we met?" Simon continued. "Was it an act all along? Did they...did they aim you at me?"

Amelia swallowed, drew a breath, then said:

"No."

"Alright, after that," Simon said. "How long? Was it before we started seeing each other? Before we got engaged?"

"Do you really want to know?" Amelia snapped. "Do you really? Fine! It was right around the time you started asking so many damned fool questions about that sister of yours!"

"Not so foolish," Simon said. "My suspicions proved correct."

"Oh, did I say foolish? I'm sorry! I keep forgetting that you're a genius! You're so intelligent that you threw away everything we had, everything we worked for, and you wound up out in the middle of nowhere, and wrecked both of our lives!"

"I'm sorry if saving my sister from murderers cramped your social status."

"Don't you dare!" Amelia screamed. "You egotistic son of a bitch! How dare you pretend that you're the only one who matters!"

"If I thought I was the only person that mattered, I wouldn't have given up everything I had...."

"And everything I had," Amelia shot back. "I worked so hard, gave up so much to be a doctor. I could have rested on my laurels, went through the motions and lived on my father's money, but I chose to go to medical school, to become a doctor, to help people. Then, out of nowhere, I find out that a copy of the neurology final exam was 'discovered' in my memory files. Funny, because a week before that, an Alliance inspection 'discovered' a crate of narcotics on one of my father's ships. I thought it had to be a mistake. Of course, it was. It was _your_ mistake, you idiot!"

"So you agreed to spy on me?"

"I _agreed_ to try and talk some sense into you," Amelia growled. "To try and keep you focused on what was important! Everything would have been perfect, if you hadn't been such a damned fool!"

"I suppose it's hard to argue with that," Simon said. "After all, it took me over two years to catch on to you."

"Was it a guess?" Amelia asked. "Or have you just become even more paranoid since you left?"

"It's not 'paranoia' if everyone actually is plotting against you," Simon replied. "And it wasn't a guess."

Simon reached into his pants pocket. He froze as he heard Amelia pull the hammer back on her pistol. He raised both hands, then slowly dropped his right hand back toward his pocket, reached in with two fingers, and pulled out the silver mirror that River had discovered.

"To 'M' from 'S'," Simon recited, gesturing toward Amelia with the hand mirror. "To Mela, from Simon. Rich girls don't pawn their silver to pay for their passage between backwater planets."

"Interesting," Amelia replied. "Of course, I might have sold it for less practical reasons. Perhaps I was just ridding myself of an unpleasant memory? Or perhaps it was stolen?"

"I considered that," Simon said. "But that just lead to other questions. Like whether it was too much of a coincidence for us to find ourselves on the same ship. Or whether a girl who spent most of her childhood in boarding schools would have learned enough about her father's cargo ships to pilot a Firefly. Unless, of course, she'd been making a point of reading about Firefly class ships."

"More of a hands-on training," Amelia corrected. "They've had me flying on every Firefly I came across ever since you left Persephone."

"Funny you mention Persephone," Simon said. "That was the question that really bothered me. A federal agent was after me on Persephone. He booked passage on the same ship as River and I. It seemed strange. If he knew that I had River, he should have arrested me on the spot. It was almost as if he knew that she'd be waiting on Boros if I'd missed her. It seemed impossible that the men who'd saved River would be careless about our plans, and I hadn't told anyone. Well, except you."

"I suppose I'm responsible for your escape," Amelia said. "If I hadn't told them your timetable, they would have arrested you, and they'd have River right now. That Fed knew just enough to let you escape. Ironic, really."

"Not exactly 'ironic,' strictly speaking," Simon said. "And he didn't let me escape. He's dead. The Alliance has left a trail of bodies as they've hunted us. The way I see it, you're responsible."

"And you're not? Let's face it, Simon, the one person in all of this who made most of the choices is you."

"I made the only choice there was to make. I chose to save River's life!"

"And how many lives would you have saved at the hospital? Hundreds? Thousands? You traded a brilliant career, a career that gave you the opportunity to do some real good, and for what? To save one person? And patch up a band of pirates who'd kill a dozen men over the price of a horse?"

"You don't know them," Simon growled. "And if you think I'd rationalize away my sister's life, you obviously don't know me."

"I didn't want this," Amelia said softly. "I wanted you. I wanted us to have everything we deserved. I can't have that anymore, Simon. If you'd loved me more, enough to...I'm sorry, Simon. I really am. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. My father could lose his business, even go to prison. They could take everything he worked for, everything I worked for. They're holding all the cards. I can't be a doctor, I can't be anything unless I do what they say. We could have had a good life together, Simon. I wanted that. But, now...."

Amelia's voice trailed off. The barrel of her pistol dropped slightly. Then, she raised it again, set her jaw, and said:

"Now, I just want my life back."

Simon looked into Amelia's eyes, then said:

"I understand."

"Then you also understand what I have to do," Amelia said. "And you know that I've...accepted...what will happen to you when this is over. I don't want to shoot you, Simon. But I will if I have to. So start walking. They want you alive, but they made it very clear that, compared to River, you're expendable."

"Well, how about that," Simon said. "It turns out, I agree. I'm going to stop you, Amelia. You may kill me, but I'll die trying to stop you."

"So, why go this far?" Amelia asked. "What, have you been stalling? Waiting for a miracle? My God, you are a fool. I don't know what kind of luck has brought you this far, but let's face it, the calvary isn't going to come riding in to save you now."

Simon drew a breath to respond, but was interrupted by a soft noise in the distance. Both he and Amelia turned toward the horizon, and saw a man on a horse galloping toward them.

"Now _that's_ ironic," Simon observed. 

"Shut up, Simon," Amelia growled, backing away. She stared at the approaching figure, and recognized Captain Reynolds as the man on the horse. He held a pistol in his right hand, and would be in range within seconds.

"He's a better shot than you, Amelia," Simon warned. 

"I'm out of choices," Amelia said, quickly turning her head aside to look at Simon, then returning her focus to Mal. "He can't keep me tied up and drag me across the 'verse forever. He knows he has to kill me, and I know I have to kill him. I'll get one shot, and he'll get one, and maybe it's my day to catch a break. He's a practical man, Simon. Much more practical than you. I'm guessing he's the one who's made the tough choices that have kept you alive."

"That's a fair statement," Simon muttered.

"Then stay quiet," Amelia ordered. "Just stand there while...agh!"

Amelia winced as a stinging light caught the corner of her eye and blinded her. She blinked through the tears, turned her head, and saw Simon holding the mirror in his hand. Only now the reflective side was facing her, and the sunlight flashed off the glass as Simon tilted it in his grasp.

She only grasped the meaning of Simon's action in the moment before a loud crack echoed through the air. A moment later, she collapsed to the ground. In the next moment, her body shuddered as the pain of her wound shot through her body.

She felt nothing after that.

Mal pulled the sash in his left hand that he had tied into a makeshift rein, bringing Barney to a halt. He kept the pistol he held in his right hand trained on Amelia, until he saw that she lay motionless, and that the wound from his bullet was positioned squarely in the center of her chest.

Mal climbed down from Barney's back, and walked over to Simon's side. Simon's gaze remained fixed on Amelia.

"You alright?" Mal asked.

After a pause, Simon nodded once.

"Shepherd Book is due to get back to Serenity by noon," Mal said. "They'll have him fly to the other shuttle, and he'll get us back."

Simon stood silent.

"Look," Mal said. "There's no practical way for us to get Doctor Brakestone back to her family, or much of anywhere. But, if you want, we can have the Shepherd fly us back here, and I'm sure he'll say a few words fittin' for a proper...."

Mal stopped as Simon tossed the mirror to the ground next to Amelia's body.

"Leave her," Simon stated, then turned and walked in the direction of the abandoned shuttle.

-----------------------------

Mal stopped Barney as they got close to the ship. Since Serenity now sat at the entrance to Marsh's cabin, Mal concluded that Kaylee and Wash had repaired the damage done by Amelia's sabotage. He could see both shuttles were docked on Serenity. Book had brought Zoe with him to Inara's shuttle. A quick transfer of fuel had left the Shepherd on his way back at the helm of one shuttle, with Zoe and Simon in the other. Barney had provided Mal with his transportation back. 

Mal climbed down from Barney and led him toward the ship. Inara stood at the loading ramp, as Zoe, Book and Jayne stacked supplies by the cabin's porch.

"Well," Inara said as Mal approached. "The hero returns."

"Well, thank you kindly," Mal replied.

"I was talking about the horse," Inara said, her lips twisting into a sly smile.

"I shoulda figured," Mal said. "But I can't disagree. I didn't think we'd make it, as far out as they were, but ol' Barney really came through when it counted."

"I guess I was wrong about him," Inara admitted.

"Yep," Mal agreed. "He may not be much in the way of breed, but I guess he had more goin' for him than meets the eye."

"Sometimes that's the way of things," Inara said.

Mal and Inara stared at each other for a moment. A gentle breeze from the east pressed the crimson satin of Inara's dress against her slender figure. Mal quietly inhaled the fragrance of Inara's perfume in the wind. Given time, he might have recognized the scent to be the same as the marigolds that grew wild on Shadow.

"Well," Inara said, absently looking toward Serenity. "I suppose I should check to see if my shuttle is still in working order."

"Yeah," Mal said. "I suppose that's a good notion."

Inara pursed her lips, then turned and walked up the ramp.

Mal led Barney over to the porch. Marsh's two mares were hitched to the post by the front of the cabin. Mal tied Barney's silk bridle to the post, then walked over to Zoe and Jayne.

"Where we stand?" Mal asked.

"Just gettin' what we can," Jayne said.

"The ship's ready to go when we are, Sir," Zoe added.

"We buried the bodies down the basement," Jayne said. "Shepherd's prayin' over 'em."

"The Shepherd's finished," Book said, emerging from the cabin door.

"Good enough," Mal said. "Once Inara's done checking her shuttle, we can leave."

"I thought she already did that?" Jayne said.

"Yeah, well, she's doin' it again," Mal replied. "What did we get?"

"Some equipment," Jayne said. "Plus, and this is a surprise that's pleasin' on all accounts...."

Jayne reached down and picked up small steel box. He opened it, and showed the contents to Mal.

"Three hundred platinum," Jayne continued. "Plus another hundred on top. Looks like Marsh came ready to trade if we were still in the dark."

"I don't think he'll miss the extra," Zoe stated.

"I'd say we earned it," Mal concurred.

"Everything we came for," Jayne said. "Plus guns, ammo and supplies that'll fetch a good price, if we don't want 'em. Not to mention we still got Barney."

"True," Zoe said.

"The doctor said he'll just piss out the drops," Jayne said. "That leaves us a teaser pony we can sell to whoever. Nothin' like gettin' paid twice."

"You may want to consider that carefully," Book said. "That's a dead man's horse. A dead drug runner's horse on top of that. Could raise questions we don't want to answer."

"We could let him go cheap," Jayne proposed. "Find a buyer on the sly. Hell, that's what we do, ain't it?"

"What do you think, Sir?" Zoe asked Mal, who was staring over at Barney.

"Jayne," Mal said, "give me your knife."

Zoe, Jayne and Book exchanged perplexed glances. Mal held his open hand out toward Jayne. Jayne shrugged, pulled the knife on his hip from its sheath, and handed it to Mal.

Mal walked over to the hitching post, then reached under one of the mares and cut the strap from the saddle. He pushed the saddle from the horse's back, then walked around to the other mare and cut away its saddle. He untied the two horses from the post, led them toward the open gate, then removed the reins from their heads. He walked behind both horses and gave each a slap on their hindquarters, sending them galloping out of the gate and across the plain.

Mal walked over to Barney, untied the sash from the post, and led him toward the gate. He then removed the sash, and stood back to leave Barney's path clear.

The horse took a cautious step forward, then turned his head toward Mal.

"Go on, Barney," Mal said. "You earned it."

Barney took a step out of the gate, then a second, and then began to trot out toward the open range. He was in a full gallop as he disappeared in the distance.

As Zoe, Jayne and Book looked on, Mal walked back to the porch, lifted one of the crates, and said:

"The ship was startin' to smell like _chu fei_ anyway."


	7. Epilogue

**__**

Epilogue

Kaylee checked the reading on the thermal scanner in her hand. She had rerouted the coolant through an auxiliary bypass to compensate for the damage Amelia had done with the pulse charges. The system appeared to be functioning within limits, and Kaylee was confident that Serenity could easily make it to a maint station.

"Hi."

Kaylee turned and saw Simon standing at the doorway.

"Oh, hi," Kaylee replied.

"Everything working?" Simon asked.

"So far, so good," Kaylee answered. "The damage was minor, and we only need to make it to Antigone."

"That's good," Simon said. "I suppose...that is, I should go check on Wash. I just wanted to make sure that everything was...working."

Simon turned to leave, but then stopped and said:

"I'm sorry. I know that Amelia caused a lot of trouble. Trouble seems to follow me around, and I end up sharing it with everyone around me. I'm sorry if things have been difficult for you."

"Aw, heck," Kaylee said. "If things didn't get broke on the ship, the Captain wouldn't need me around. And the other stuff, well, it wasn't a carnival or nothin', but I'm okay."

"Okay," Simon echoed. "Um, when you say that you're okay, does that mean that I'm supposed to assume that you're not okay, or...?"

"That's an okay that means okay," Kaylee assured him. "But it's good that you were wonderin'. You just might learn a thing or two about women one of these days."

"Yes, well, better late than never," Simon said, casting his eyes on the ground.

"How about you?" Kaylee asked.

"What?"

"You," Kaylee repeated. "For you, is everything, you know, okay?"

"I wasn't hurt. That is, my leg's fine."

"So, you're alright?"

"Yes," Simon said, nodding slowly. "I wasn't sure I would be, but I am."

"It's okay if you're not," Kaylee said. "I mean, anybody'd be in a state, after that_ pan tu_ sold you out."

"Well, maybe it just hasn't hit me yet," Simon replied. "I mean, I've grown used to looking for the Alliance around every corner. But Amelia...I never thought that she'd be someone I couldn't trust."

"Never? I mean, when you came out to the Rim, and she stayed behind, you didn't think that was peculiar?"

"It never occurred to me," Simon said. "It seemed natural. I certainly didn't ask her to come with me."

"See, I don't get that," Kaylee said. "I mean, I thought you two were supposed to get hitched?"

"We were," Simon said. "But I couldn't ask her...I couldn't ask anybody to follow me."

"Why not? I mean, I know she was used to being rich and all, but ain't that bad out here."

"That's just it," Simon explained. "It's not just 'here.' It's this place, then the next place, and God knows where after that. If the Alliance ever found out where we were, we'd have to just pick up and go, leaving behind anything we'd grown attached to. River and I have to live with that, but...."

Simon bit his bottom lip, then said:

"It would be really selfish of me to ask someone to live that way."

Kaylee shrugged. "I guess you rich folks got different ways about you. Out on the Rim, half the people there've been dragged by somebody. Other half did the draggin', I suppose."

Kaylee absently turned the scanner in her hand, then added:

"Just doesn't seem like that big a deal, is all. I mean, I could see myself gettin' dragged a bit. Not that I'd just up and chase any _ban wen mang_ that made moon eyes at me, but...for the right person, I could see it."

"Well, that's you," Simon said. "You're special."

Kaylee's eyes widened, and a wide grin crossed her face. Simon smiled gently, then took a step toward her.

Before he could take a second step, a rapid chirping sounded from the engine's control panel.

"_Bo ming_," Kaylee grumbled, as she turned and checked the panel. 

"Something wrong?" Simon asked.

"It's nothing," Kaylee said. "The main breaker just went out. Actually, that keeps the ship from blowing up, so maybe that's not nothing."

"Blowing up?" Simon gasped.

"It's fine," Kaylee declared. "There are two redundancies built in."

Simon let out a sigh of relief.

"Of course," Kaylee added, "I ain't checked those redundancies since we got zapped."

"Uh...."

"It'll be fine," Kaylee said. "I'll just...I just need to...."

"Get back to work?" Simon asked.

"Yeah," Kaylee sighed. "I really need to...."

"It's okay," Simon said. "We'll talk later."

"Good plan," Kaylee said, pulling open a panel on the engine casing.

"I'll see you at dinner."

"See you then," Kaylee agreed.

"If we don't blow up."

"Goes without saying."

Simon turned and left Kaylee to the engine.

---------------------------

Mal stood on the catwalk above the loading bay, looking down at the empty horse pen. He would help Jayne take it down when they reached Antigone, and they could sell the metal for scrap. 

"Shepherd Book wanted me to tell you that dinner would be served late," Simon said, approaching Mal on the walkway. "He decided to put a little extra preparation into tonight's meal, in celebration of our latest windfall."

"It is nice to have a little cash for a change," Mal said. "It should last us a good while."

"At least we won't have to take on passengers in the near future," Simon said.

"I'd agree with that," Mal said. "Trouble always does seem to follow. No offense."

"None taken," Simon replied. "And I do appreciate all you did to help."

Mal shrugged. "Wish it didn't have to end the way it did."

"That's no one's fault but Amelia's," Simon said.

"Don't be too hard on her," Mal advised. "Take a good person, put 'em in a tough spot, you got to give 'em a little consideration for circumstances."

"I wonder if the same could be said for Marsh," Simon suggested.

"Naw, he was just a rat bastard."

"Probably true."

"Well, I'd best get on the Cortex and set up repairs," Mal said. "Fortunately we got the funds to cover it this time. Kaylee says the breakers need replacing, and the hull of Inara's shuttle needs a little work after that crash landing. Don't want her complaining about her ship's condition. At least as long as she's still got use for it."

Simon leaned against the railing next to the Captain, then turned his head toward Mal and asked:  
  
"Would it kill you to just ask Inara to stay?"

"Would it kill you to just throw an arm around Kaylee and kiss her?" Mal retorted.

Simon bit his bottom lip.

"Not that I'm suggesting or endorsing such a notion," Mal quickly added. "I still ain't measured you up to my Kaylee. I'm just tryin' to win the argument, which, as you may have noticed, is a habit of mine."

"I've observed the characteristic," Simon said. "I suppose that's a necessary property for a leader."

"Right," Mal mumbled. "That's me. Malcolm Reynolds, leader of men. Most of what I got I stole, most of what I steal I can't sell. I can't even horse trade a horse without calamity and bloodshed. Half the crew can't stand the other half, and the one person on board who gets on with everybody's leavin', 'cause she can't get on with me. Yeah, I'm one hell of a leader."

Simon's eyes dropped. Then he looked up, and said:

"We're still flying."

Mal's eyes darted toward Simon. Mal then shook his head, smiled, and said:

"Yep. We are at that."

THE END

a/n: Big thanks to Estepheia for all of her help, input, and encouragement.


End file.
